A Twist of Fate
by PhantomWriter44
Summary: Hunted down by the people she once trusted, Anastasia somehow manages to escape to Paris. Now living in the lower levels of the Palais Garnier disguised as the former Phantom, she searches for way to break the spell that had turned her into a terrifying beast only to have the true Phantom show up unexpectedly after years of hiding. (Main Story Completed, May Continue in Shorts)
1. Chapter 1: The Wish

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I do NOT own the Phantom of the Opera. I write this story solely for the purpose for practicing my writing skills and entertaining the readers of course.

**Author:** So this story is basically a partial crossover of the _Phantom of the Opera_ and _Beauty and the Beast_. It's set in the POT world. The reason it's not under the crossover section is because my beast is base on the beast, but not exactly since she's a girl. There's elements of both stories and some magic in it. Hopefully, you enjoy it! Also, please forgive me that the Phantom probably won't be showing up in the first few chapters.

**3rd Person pov**

The sky was pitch black with brilliant white lights scattered everywhere. The beautiful crescent moon shone down peacefully on the lone road to Paris. A cloaked lone rider moved swiftly through the road, breaking the night time serenity.

Run. That's all she could do. She couldn't go back. She took one of her father's finest white stallion and fled the castle without a second thought. At night she rode at full speed to her destination and by day she hid in the shadows, covering her face. Paris, they would never find her there in that huge metropolis of people. She would somehow blend in. She must.

At night she snuck into the city. At last, she arrived at Paris, the city of love. Wandering through the streets, she had no where to go. She had money, but she couldn't risk being seen. Monster. Imposter. Witch. That's what they called her. They had drawn their swords. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember exactly what had happened.

* * *

_A week earlier…_

She needed some fresh air. All the attention, music, chatter was becoming nauseating. She desperately wished it would all end. She managed to sneak out the back door into the garden without being seen. Somehow, she ended up at her old family wishing fountain. There was a beautifully carved statue of the goddess Aphrodite in the center. The sound of rushing water was soothing. Unlady-like, she laid down on the edge of the fountain and gazed up in the night sky. Thousands of glistening stars were scattered throughout the sky. Suddenly a brilliant golden light flew across the sky. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I wish… I wish to be left alone.", she whispered, while closing her eyes. Truthfully, her first wish was to have her family back together. But she knew that the dead never rises and if they did no good would ever come from it. Her beautiful little sister and her kind, gentle mother with the voice of an angel were in God's hands. Yes, they were happily in heaven now. In one summer, they were both taken from her by an unknown plague that had spread across the countryside, killing many in its path. Even after all these years, a tear slide down her face from remembering what she had lost. She couldn't help it.

"Be careful what you wish for.", an unknown voice said. She quickly got up, while straightening out her dress. Then she searched for the owner of the voice. Her eyes settled on a woman in a white dress. She was quite beautiful, but she couldn't recognize her. She was sure that she knew all the notable nobles who were invited to her father's ball. She had personally greeted each and every one of them.

"I didn't realize that I wasn't alone. Pardon my unlady-like behavior.", she said.

"It's nothing.", the mysterious woman said, waving off her apology. "Now, why does a young lady like yourself wish to be left alone?"

"I guess, I've never been fond of crowds and parties.", she answered.

"Oh, that can't be true. A noblewoman like yourself must enjoy them. There must be more to it than that.", the woman said. Yes. She used to love parties, dances, music, but without her mother and sister they became boring. It felt like they dragged on for hours on end.

"I wish my father would stop trying to find me new suitors. I wish he'd stop throwing so many balls. I wish random nobles that I barely know would stop proposing.", she answered truthfully. Normally, she wasn't this open with her feelings, but it seems that she just let her guard slip. The mysterious lady analyzed her closely.

"Do you know how many girls would wish for your life?", the woman asked, no longer talking in a casual light hearted manner.

"Haha. It's not as glorious as it seems, you know. It can get quite tiring.", she responded.

"Tiring?", the woman questioned. "You have your life handed to you on a silver platter. You have everything most people would ever dream of and yet you're ungrateful for everything?!"

"I never said I was ungrateful. Don't twist my words!", she said defensively.

"Silence. Insolent noble! You will get exactly what you wish for!", the woman yelled. The atmosphere around her instantly darkened. The air became foggy and the sky dulled. The woman in front her seemed to change along with it. She stumbled back, crashing into the stone ground. Fear gripped her heart, nearly paralyzing her. But she managed to get up and when she did, she immediately turned around and ran straight back through the garden to the castle. Her head was throbbing. The air around her was so misty. She heard voices whispering in her ear.

I wish to be left alone.

I wish my father would stop trying to find me new suitors.

I wish he'd stop throwing so many balls.

I wish random nobles that I barely know would stop proposing.

You will get everything you wished for.

The castle was close by. But it felt like she'd been running forever. Finally, with a crack of lightning streaking across the sky and heavy rain pouring down on her, soaking all her clothing, she saw the garden entrance to the castle. She hurriedly opened the door and ran in. She headed to her room immediately, wanting to forget the night's events. When she entered her luxurious room, she didn't bother to look in the mirror. She went straight to the fireplace, trying to warm up. Then she heard footsteps coming closer to her door.

"Anastasia, where are you?", a male voice cried out desperately. It must be one of her suitors. "You've been gone for hours already?" Hours, no she couldn't have been out for that long. He must've been exaggerating.

"Please mademoiselle, tell me where Anastasia's room is.", the man's voice ask from outside. "Maybe she's in her room."

"Her father already checked. But I guess there's no harm in double checking.", said a maid. "Follow me." Her doors opened. She got up from the fireplace and was about to send them out the room, telling them that she was okay, but the maid immediately shrieked out in fear.

"Oh my god! Monster. Help! Help! Somebody help!", the maid cried out while running out the room. She stood there paralyzed, unsure what to do. But then, the man drew out his saber and advanced on her.

"What have you done with Anastasia?", he said.

"What are you talking about?", she asked.

"Don't lie to me. Tell me! Where is she?", he asked again while drawing closer to her.

"Are you crazy? I am Anastasia.", she said. "Please don't come any closer."

"What trick are you playing at?", he said. "Do you really think that you can trick me with your lies, witch? Your magic won't work on me!"

"You're clearly delusional.", she said while backing up into her drawer. "Somebody help me! This man is crazy!", she cried out.

"No one can save you witch! Now I will only ask one final time. Where is Anastasia?", he asked. How does he not know that I am her? Thoughts ran through her mind. Maybe this man is drunk. But the maid, she shrieked out in fear. Was it her appearance? She decided to sneak a glance at herself at the mirror behind her. Staring back at her was a beast, with golden eyes. Fresh cuts and tattoos covered its face. No, that thing couldn't be her. No. No. No. She's must be dreaming. She felt her heart beating faster in her chest. She couldn't breathe. Then darkness consumed her.

**Please read and review to boost my writing confidence and skills and feel free to pm me if you have any suggestions.**


	2. Chapter 2: Escape

**Disclaimer:** As always, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.

**3rd Person pov**

She woke bounded to a chair in a dark cell. "Where am I?", she thought. Her head was pounding. She tried to move, but her wrists were bound tightly with rope.

"Somebody, help me! Please!", she cried out.

"She's awake. Hurry, go tell monsieur Delacroix.", a man ordered a servant.

"Guards bring the the witch to the master's study.", another man ordered. "Make sure she doesn't escape!" Three guards marched into cell, covered her head with a sack, dragged her out of the chair, and forced her to walk.

"Please, I am Anastasia! You must believe me!", she begged.

"Shut your mouth, witch!", a guard said while hitting her in the back with a batton.

"Ouch! Watch it. What's your name, guard?", she asked.

"Do you really think I'm going to tell you my name, witch?", the guard asked.

"It was worth a try. But no worries, I shall remember your voice.", she said as she was led up the stairs. The rest of the walk was silent.

"Remove the sack.", her father's voice commanded. Finally the sack was removed. Her father stood in front of her, still in his previous ball attire. Several guards stood around her with their swords sheathed. "Tell me, what have you done with my daughter Anastasia?"

"Father, please. I am Anastasia.", she said.

"Don't lie to me beast. You aren't her. I won't fall for it.", he said angrily.

"Please, I don't know what happened. But I am your daughter.", she begged. He stared at her with scrutinizing eyes, searching for the truth.

"You can't seriously be considering that this witch is your daughter, Monsieur.", the man, who had drew his sword at me, said. Turning her eyes at him, she tried to remember his name. Gaston. Yes, that was his name. He was one of the more pompous, annoying noblemen that were trying to win her hand in marriage.

"She's wearing my daughter's dress and the voice is the same.", her father said.

"A witch! She is. Don't give in to her spells, monsieur.", Gaston said.

"We should at least hear what she has to say before we rush to conclusions.", her father said. "Well, care to prove that you're my daughter?"

"How do you want me to prove that I'm me?", she questioned. Her father paused for a moment.

"What were my wife's last words?", he asked.

"She told us that she'll alway love us and that we must protect each other and remain as a family if she were to die.", she answered.

"Not the exact words, but yes that is the summary of it.", he said.

"Really that's all you're going to ask her, monsieur? The witch could've easily just read your mind.", Gaston said.

"I wasn't finished.", her father interrupted, holding up a hand to silence him. "Well, this is quite a challenge trying to think of ways to prove that you are my daughter. Ah, I got another question. Who was the first person you ever kissed?"

"Um… well I don't know the order, but it was either you or mom.", she stammered out with her face flushed. "Is this even a relevant question, really? There really must be a better way..."

"I actually meant who was the first boy you ever kissed, outside of family members.", he said without answering her question.

"... well, I've never actually kissed a boy. On the other hand, how exactly would you even know if I did?", she said, feeling her face on fire. "Father are you seriously going to ask me these kinds of questions in front of everyone?"

"Hmm… say that I might believe you. What exactly happened to you?", her father asked.

"I don't know.", she said.

"Well, can you tell me the last things you remember?", he asked.

"Other than Gaston trying to kill me. I went outside into the garden during the ball to get some fresh air.", she answered.

"Did something happen in the garden?", he asked.

"I remember seeing a shooting star and then a strange lady appeared out of no where.", she answered.

"You don't recognize her?", he asked.

"No.", she said.

"Well did you make a wish?", he asked.

"Yes.", she answered hesitantly. "I wished to be left alone."

"Do you really believe her story, monsieur?", Gaston cut in. "This hideous beast can't be your daughter! She's an imposter! There's no way your beautiful daughter could become this! Truth can only be taken by force!"

"Look, if there's a chance that this is my daughter I don't want her harmed!", her father said, while shooting a warning glance at him. "I need some time to think. Guards bring her to one of the guest rooms with no windows. Make sure she doesn't leave!"

"Please father, you must trust me. I am your daughter, Anastasia.", she pleaded again as the guards led her out. When the door closed she somehow managed to hear what was being said inside.

"So what are you going to do now?", Gaston questioned with impatience thick in his voice.

"I don't know.", her father said in a tired voice.

"Why did you trust her so easily?", Gaston asked. "She must have you under a spell."

"No. My mind is my own.", he replied. "Besides, no one blushes that much…"

* * *

_Present…_

She continued on walking down the empty streets of Paris, wondering about what exactly happened after she was sent to the guest room. The fortunes had seemed to be in her favor. Her father, monsieur Delacroix, seemed to believe her. How did things end so badly?

* * *

_The day of her escape…_

She had been locked up in the guest room for a couple days, judging by the number of times she was fed. She could barely sleep. So she ended up just tossing and turning in the bed. Just when she was about to fall asleep, someone barged into her room.

"Bind the witch and bring her to the barn.", a man ordered in a hushed tone. Immediately, two men grabbed her and tossed a sack over her head.

"Why are you taking me there?", she asked.

"Shut up witch or I'm going to kill you!", a man behind her threatened. She could feel a knife digging into her back.

"Father! Help me!", she screamed out. Immediately something hit her in the back of her head and she felt something covering her mouth.

"He won't be able to hear you from here. Try that again and you're going to be completely knocked out.", the man said.

"mhm…", was all she was able to say.

After a while of walking, the men stopped and removed her sack. She was in dark building. Standing before her was Gaston.

"It's seems that monsieur Delacroix isn't willing to do the hard work of bringing back his daughter.", he said. "So I've decided to take it into my own hands."

"If you dare to hurt me, my father will make you pay dearly.", she said.

"No, he would thank me graciously once I find his daughter.", he said with his head held high. "It's clear that he's currently under your spell."

"I didn't put him under any spells, idiot!", she said. "Think about it. If you hurt me and it turns out that I am Anastasia. You'll be in loads of trouble. Do you really want to take that chance?"

"Enough! I'm the one asking questions here.", he yelled. "Now, tell me where is my dear Anastasia?"

"Your Anastasia?", she answered angrily. Who did this man think he is? "Trust me she hates your guts right now!"

"Answer me!", he ordered. "Where is she?! If you don't tell me where she is this instant, you're going to be in pain." He walked over to a fire that she noticed earlier. Then he drew out a dagger and dipped it into the flames. When the metal grew red hot he took it out.

"What are you doing?", she said. "Look, I've already told you. I am Anastasia. I didn't do anything with her because I am her!"

"Liar!", he said while walking closer to her. She tried to escape but two men held her down. He brought the red-hot dagger closer to her skin. She could feel the blazing heat of it licking her skin.

"No. Please, don't hurt me. I am Anastasia.", she begged. An indescribable pain shot through her shoulder. She felt tears forming in her eyes and she cried out in agony.

"Tell me what you did to Anastasia!", Gaston yelled. He slowly moved the dagger, cutting deeper into her skin. The searing pain continued to shoot through her causing her to scream in pain again. She tried struggling against her captors.

"Maybe you shouldn't give her a scar.", one of the men said nervously.

"Shut up! I do what I wish.", Gaston said furiously. "Speak witch or I'll beat it out of you!"

"Go to hell!", she spit out. She felt a strong force knocking the wind out of her. She felt herself losing consciousness. Her vision blurred and she could feel pain shooting through her at different places.

"Say something, witch!", Gaston ordered while continuing to hit her. She felt anger boiling inside her. She shruggled against her captors and against the ropes that bound her hand tightly. Gaston stopped hitting her and he went to retrieve the dagger from the ground. "Maybe I should just kill you. No one would miss a hideous beast like you, would they?", he taunted. He walked closer to her with the dagger. No, she couldn't die like this.

Time seemed to slow around her. She somehow broke free from her captors and the thick ropes that once held her hands together ripped apart as if it was paper. Then an unknown fury overtook her. She wanted vengeance against the man, who tortured her. He looked like he was paralyzed in fear. She stepped towards him and he immediately backed up. His dagger dropped to the floor. In an instant, one of her hands was around his neck and the other ready to strike. His face was pale white, devoid of blood.

"Please, I begged you. Don't kill me.", her tormentor whimpered, like a scared little girl. Kill? Yes, she wanted him dead. Everything inside her told her to finished him off. But a calming voice whispered, "Don't do it. You aren't a monster." This voice seemed to bring her out of her rage and she stared at the man. Then she saw her hand. It was the most terrifying thing she's ever seen. It was a beast's hand with long, sharp claws and dark fur. Immediately she dropped the man and ran. She ran as fast as she could out the door into the dark of the night. Only the moon illuminated her path. She stared down at her hands and she noticed blood dripping down from them, but they were no longer that of a beast.

**So how was this chapter? Please read and review :D**


	3. Chapter 3: The Streets of Paris

**Disclaimer: **As always, I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.

**3rd Person pov**

**Present…**

A woman's cry broke her out of her thoughts. She knew that it was far away, but she had to investigate. By now, she was used to her heightened senses. It was one of the only upsides of being a beast. Immediately, she followed the noise to a run-downed part of Paris.

"Little ladies like yourself shouldn't be walking alone on the streets of Paris, especially at night.", a man said. She stayed in the shadows to watch the scene unfold.

"Please monsieur, leave us be.", a lady's voice said. "We don't want any trouble." She saw two women, one older and one younger, standing close together.

"If you didn't want any trouble then you shouldn't have come out at night.", the man said. "Me and my mates were looking for some lady friends." Still in the shadows, she saw two more men approaching the women.

"My friends are expecting us. They'll come searching if we don't get there soon.", the older woman said.

"We don't like liars, do we?", the man sneered. "If I remember correctly, you were yelling out the name Erik. So I don't think anyone's expecting you."

"It's sounds like you were searching for a lover perhaps. We can easily fill his place. Just come with us.", the second man said.

"Oh, we can definitely have some fun times together.", the last man said. They started closing in on the two women. The older one gripped the younger one's hand and they tried to back away.

"Mamam, I'm scared.", the younger one whispered. She could sense the fear in them. She had to do something fast, before the men got them. She didn't have any weapons, but perhaps she could distract them.

"I wouldn't take another step closer to them if I were you.", she said in a low threatening tone.

"Erik?", the older one cried out.

* * *

**Madame Giry's pov**

I shouldn't have allowed Meg to come along with me. We were trapped against a brick wall and surrounded by three men. I noticed that one of them had a knife. Suddenly they were closing in on Meg and I. We wouldn't be able to get away. I felt Meg grip my hand tighter. Fear coursed through my blood.

"I wouldn't take another step closer to them if I were you.", a voice said from out of the shadows. A dark cloak figure stepped out.

"Erik?", I cried out in hope.

"Well, well, well… it looks like we have a guest.", the leader of the men said. "What are you going to do?"

"Haha.. it seems that this man thinks he can take all three of us on.", another man said.

"You should've stayed in the shadows. Would've been safer for ya!", the last man added in.

"Mark, Sam, go deal with our new guest.", the leader ordered. "Don't you two get the idea of running. Let's see how fast this friend of yours dies." We didn't dare to move, so we watched the fight progress.

The first man lunged at the cloaked figure with his knife. The figure swiftly moved out of the way. Then it caught the man's hand and twisted it, forcing the knife to fall to the ground. Letting go of the man, the figure knead him in the stomach causing him to let out a pained grunt. The second man was behind the figure. He lunged at him with his knife.

"Watch out!", I cried out, hoping that I wasn't too late.

"Shut up, woman!", the leader said angrily. Seeing his one of his men fall down to the ground in pain must've set him off. I heard a cry of pain that sounded high pitch, like a woman's voice. Our defender wasn't Erik. It was a girl. The fight continued on. But the second man was also no match for our mysterious savior. In a matter of seconds, he too was knocked to the ground unconscious by her. The girl grabbed one of the knives off the ground and faced the last man.

"Don't move any closer or I'll shoot you.", the last man ordered with his gun drawn. The cloak figure stood motionless. She was wearing dark trousers and a loose white top. I could barely make out her face. But her eyes, they glowed bright gold like the eyes of a cat.

"Two men down, one to go.", the girl said. "I'll give you one chance to run."

"I'm the one with the gun.", the man yelled. "I make the decisions."

"You can try and shoot, but you'll only anger me more.", the girl threatened while advancing on the man. She's must be crazy.**Boom. Bam. Bam.** The shots cried out. The girl seemed to disappear before my eyes and reappear. But this time she was behind the man. Somehow she managed to disarm the man. Now she held her dagger to his neck about to kill him.

"No don't kill him.", Meg cried out. The figure stood deathly still. A drop of blood was sliding down the man's neck.

"Why not?", the girl asked in a cold tone.

"Because… because killing isn't right.", Meg said.

"I..", the girl said. Instead of splitting the man's throat, she knocked him out. The girl pocketed the man's gun and seemed to loot their body. She grabbed a canteen of alcohol from one of them and spilled some on each of them.

"What are you doing?", I asked her.

"Covering my tracks. They'll seem like complete drunks if anyone finds them.", she answered. She was no longer facing me and she pulled her cowl over her head more. "You should go home now. They won't be waking any time soon.", she said.

Meg and I were so shaken up by the events that just occurred that we didn't answer her. Now that it was over, I stared down at the three full grown men that laid unconscious on the ground. How did she defeat all three of them? Who was this mysterious savior of our?

"If you want, I'll watch you go safely back home.", the girl offered, breaking me out of my thought.

"What about you? Where will you go? Do you have a place to stay?", I asked. My motherly concerns were taking over.

"I… It doesn't matter.", she said.

"You don't have a home? Come with us to the Palais Garnier, the Paris opera house. It's the least we can do.", I offered.

"I, trust me you don't want me with you.", she said dejectedly. Her back was facing us, so I couldn't see her face.

"Why not? Please I insist that you come. You must be freezing out here alone.", I said. "We have a lot of spare rooms now."

"You don't happen to have a stable, do you?", she asked.

"We do have a stable to keep our horses, yes.", I answered. That was a strange question. Suddenly, the girl whistled and within minutes I saw a brilliant white stallion trot up to her.

"Do you mind if I keep him there?", she asked.

"Come let us go, before they wake up.", I said. We walked silently through the streets of Paris. The girl's hood hid her well, especially since it's dark. I tried to get a good look at her, but her face was always in the shadows.

We were close to the opera house now. I motioned for the girl to continue following me when we entered the premises of the Opera house.

"Come the stables is this way.", I said. I led her to the stables and opened the giant doors. "You can pick any of the empty stalls for your horse." I said.

"Thank you.", the girl said as she led her horse to a stall.

* * *

**3rd person pov**

Anastasia gently settled her horse into one of the empty stalls. At first she was going to refuse the woman's offer of shelter, but since she didn't want her horse to freeze outside she decided to accept.

"Come now, we should go to the opera house.", the woman said.

"There's something I have to show you.", Anastasia said. She had no choice now, though she was glad that the younger girl had gone into the opera house already. One less to run from her. "But please if you chose to run, please keep this horse safe."

"Why would I run?", the woman asked.

"Everyone else does.", she said calmly. "You haven't seen my face yet, but I guess I look like a monster."

"You saved both me and my daughter's life and spared the lives of those men. Trust me you are not a monster.", the woman boldly said.

"Looks can be deceiving.", she said. Slowly she turned around and lowered her hood so that the woman could see her face clearly. She waited for her to scream like everyone else. She waited for the sound of footsteps running away. But all she heard was a gasp.

"Oh my, you're bleeding.", the woman said.

"You aren't scare of me?", she asked incredulously.

"I've seen worse. Come now. I need to tend to your wounds before you bleed to death.", the woman said. "However, we need to enter the opera house without being seen. I do not believe that everyone will have my reaction."

**Please read and review :D**


	4. Chapter 4: Uncovered

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the Phantom of the Opera. Probably never will :( But at least I get to play with it :D

**Author:** Thanks everyone for continuing to this story! Please enjoy this chapter! :D

**Madame Giry's pov**

I gasped out loud when I saw the girl's face. She had dark vine tattoos and open scars cutting across her face. Parts of her face look burned. Where her eyebrows should've been were strange tattoos. What stood out the most was her eyes. Those golden eyes. They looked much less threatening now, but they still made her seem like a fierce beast. Staring at her face, I noticed something. It was that same look that Erik had when I saw his face uncovered. It wasn't fear that I saw. She had a dejected look, like she was expecting something dreadful to happen.

"You aren't scared of me?", she asked. I decided not question her appearance yet. I took another glance at her completely. The side of her shirt was cut open and stained with blood, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I've seen worse. Come now. I need to tend to your wounds before you bleed to death.", I said. "However, we need to enter the opera house without being seen. I do not believe that everyone will have my reaction." I motioned her to follow me and brought her to my room. "This is my personal room.", told her. I quickly got some bandages and water to tend to her wound. The girl sat down on a stool and for the first time she seemed to notice her cut. "Let me tend to your wound. I'll be gentle.", I said while walking towards her with a damp towel.

"It's alright, I can do it.", she said while taking the towel. She lifted part of her shirt up and started to clean the cut. I stood from a distance observing her.

"I'm madame Giry, what's your name?", I asked. She hesitated for a second.

"Anastasia.", she said. I inspected her cut, most of the blood had been wiped off now, and surprisingly it looked as if it had already started to heal. Anastasia washed the blood stained towel, and then she grimaced as she continued to clean the wound.

"Anastasia, have you eaten yet? You look like you haven't eaten in days.", I asked.

"No.", she replied.

"Wait here.", I told her. I ran off to the kitchen to search for some food for her. As I walked, I thought about what I should do with her. She was obviously homeless. But that stallion of hers looked like it was a purebred horse, which would make it awfully expensive. What are the chances, I was out searching for Erik, but instead I find her. "I can't believe I'm doing this again.", I whispered to myself.

As I watch her eat, I noticed that she was very etiquette despite looking like she was starving. When she was almost finished I asked her, "So do you have a home?"

"Not anymore.", she said while looking down.

"What happened?", I asked gently.

"It's a long, complicated story.", she answered uncomfortably. I decided not to press her anymore. Maybe I could get more information later.

"Come with me. I know a place you can stay safe and hidden, if you wish to stay here.", I told her. Hopefully Erik wouldn't mind. He was gone anyways, I argued with myself. I had tried to search for him after the chandelier incident that occurred almost two weeks ago, but he was no where to be found. All that was left of him was his porcelain mask. His lair was ransacked and destroy by the angry mob when they found it. However, no one dared to venture there now because it was so far underground. I led her to the prima donna's room and opened the mirror.

"Where are we going?", she asked.

"Somewhere safe underground.", I answered. "Follow me and do exactly as I do. These tunnels are dangerous, but you'll be safe." I led her down through the dark passages into the Phantom's lair.

"What is this place?", Anastasia asked. "And why is everything destroyed?"

"This is an underground lair that was destroyed after a tragic incident at the opera house.", I answered. "You should get some rest. There's a bed over there. There must be a change of clothes somewhere around here."

"Thank you for everything.", the girl said with a small smile. For a second, I thought that her eyes had changed to a friendly brown color. But it vanished as soon as the smile faded.

"You're very welcome.", I answered. "I don't suggest exploring the passages. There are many traps there. I'll draw you a map of the route we came here by." I searched through the drawers by the beautiful untouched swan bed and found a nightgown. Giving it to her, I allowed her the privacy of changing. "It's getting late. I should be heading back. Are you alright staying here alone?", I asked.

"I'll be fine. Thank you again.", she answered.

"Good night then.", I said. "You can sleep in any of the beds."

"Good night.", she said.

* * *

**Anastasia's pov**

I couldn't believe my luck. This sudden turn of events was startling. Here I was in a dark cave, sleeping in a warm, comfortable bed, wondering about what I should do next. I needed to break this accursed spell. But how? What was I supposed to do? I couldn't go back home to the wishing fountain. I needed to find that strange woman again and reverse this curse. Maybe I should just take one step at a time.

Getting up from the bed, I inspected the room around me. I didn't know what time it was, but I felt fully rested. The room definitely belonged to a woman once. It had a beautiful mahogany dresser in a corner and this exotic swan bed. This room was relatively untouched compared to the room outside.

The state of the room outside was appalling. Papers were scattered everywhere. A thin layer of dust covered everything. There were broken and burnt out candelabras everywhere. In the corner of this large room was a large elegant organ and on the other end was a large lake with a gate as an entrance. After scanning the room for a while, I saw that there was a covered plate on a clean table with a note beside it. I struck a match and lit the candle nearby so that I'd have some more light even though I could see quite well in the dark. I quickly opened the note and read it.

Anastasia,

I have set some breakfast here on the table for you, hopefully it's still warm. I will visit you later when practice is done. Make yourself comfortable, you can stay here as long as you like. Also here's a map of the the route here.

Madame Giry,

I quickly ate the food and decided to start cleaning up this place. I'm probably going to be staying here for a while. Changing out of my nightgown and into my previous attire. I started the long process of cleaning and sorting through all the stuff. I must ask madame Giry about the events that took place here.

I heard footsteps approaching me, so I got up from my work. I didn't know how long I had spent cleaning this place up. I had swept up most of the dust from the floor and gathered up all the scattered papers, which were mostly songs and compositions in the same child like hand writing. Oddly enough it had an elegant look to it.

"I see you've been cleaning up this mess.", madame Giry said.

"Yes. It's not as bad as it first appears.", I responded. "Do you happen to know the time?"

"It's about three in the afternoon.", she said. "Here I brought you some late lunch." She set down the food on the table and we both sat down.

"Are you going to eat too?", I asked about to grab another dish from the kitchen.

"No, no. I've already ate a while ago.", she said.

"The food is delicious.", I said, trying to make some light conversation. "Did you make it?"

"No, the cook did. He's a fabulous chef.", she answered.  
"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened here?", I asked curiously. Glancing at madame Giry, I saw her let out a short sigh.

"I suppose you have the right to know.", she said. "A few weeks ago, a terrible incident occurred at this opera house. Have you heard of the Phantom of the Opera?"

"No.", I replied.

"Really? It's all over the news papers. Especially, after the chandelier crashed down killing several people in the process.", she said.

"I just arrived in Paris and I haven't read the news in a while.", I said. "Who is this Phantom and did he cause the crash?"

"Yes, it's a complicated love story.", she said. She paused for a moment, like she was trying to collect her thoughts. "The Phantom fell in love with a young singer, but she was deeply in love with vicomte. During an opera, the Phantom tried get her to fall for him. But instead she took off his mask, revealing him to the crowds. In anger, he cut down the chandelier and kidnapped the girl. An angry mob and the vicomte search for them. In the end, the girl left and married the vicomte and the mob wrecked this lair. However, the Phantom was never found."

"So this was his lair then?, I asked.

"Yes.", she answered. "But I don't think he's going to return."

"How do you know this man?", I asked. "And is he the man that you were searching for?" I felt like my questions were making madame Giry uncomfortable, but I couldn't help it.

"Yes, he's the man I was searching for. I saved him once when he was younger.", she answered.

"Just one last question, if you don't mind.", I said. "Why did he live down here?"

"His face was badly deformed.", she said. "The world treated him cruelly, so he decided to hide from it." That would explain the shattered mirrors and his mask.

"Thank you for telling me.", I said. "I appreciate it."

"Now, I think I deserve to know your story.", she said. "What caused you to come to Paris?" I couldn't help but grin. Yes, she's definitely earned my trust.

"Alright, but it might not make too much sense.", I warned. Then I recounted the events that led up to my escape. She listened eagerly and patiently. Never once interrupting me or questioning my sanity. The only thing I left out was my family name. I don't know why, but I felt like I should just keep that a secret. Maybe it was because my father is the marquis of Champagne, which would make my story much harder to believe.

"So then you weren't always like this?", she asked.

"No, not until a few weeks ago.", I answered.

"You are also a noble?", she asked.

"Yes.", I answered. I waited anxiously for the next question of what's your surname. But it never came. I guessed she didn't care or if she did she decided not to ask.

"Oh my, would you look at the time.", she said while looking down at a small pocket watch. "I must be going. Wouldn't do well to be late to my own rehearsal. Can't be a bad influence on my ballerinas, heaven knows they already have enough." I had to smile at that, seeing her so flustered.

"Best be going then. I'll take care of the dishes.", I said. "Farewell."

"Thank you.", she said. "I'll be seeing you later." With that, she got up and left.

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	5. Chapter 5: Neverending Nightmare

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Phantom of the Opera_.

**Author:** Enjoy!

**3rd Person pov**

Anastasia couldn't help but think about the story madame Giry had told her while she cleaned up the lair. Imagine living a life hidden away from society and shunned by people because of the things you can't change. To be forsaken by everyone and to finally choose to live in a dark and lonely cave because of the cruel treatment of the world. Weeks ago she wouldn't have been able to even contemplate any reasons of why someone would ever chose to live away from the light of day and stay hidden in the dark.

Hours came and went as she continued on working. This cavern was larger than she expected. It was going to take a lot more work to get this place back to what it once was. There were many rooms in this place. Currently she had discovered two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a library with a large living area. The library was unexpected. She would've thought that someone who was rejected by society for their entire life would've been illiterate, but instead there were books in many different languages scattered all over the floor.

"You might want to take a bath soon. You're all covered in dust.", madame Giry's voice said. "On the other hand, wonderful job cleaning this place up. But this library is going to take some work."

"Yes, it is. They really wrecked this place up real badly.", Anastasia said tiredly. "It's seems these books got the brunt of the mobs' fury."

"It seems it did.", she replied. "I brought you some dinner, some clean clothes and a towel, but I can't stay."

"Alright, thank you.", Anastasia said while walking off into the kitchen. "Here's the plates from lunch and breakfast." Madame Giry quickly collected the clean plates and left, leaving her all alone again.

Dinner was lonely, but the food was great as always. She sat there silently eating. She'd been cooped up in this dark lair for nearly an entire day. She really needed a pocket watch or a working clock. The clocks in the lair had been smashed and broken. She wondered how the Phantom had managed to sneak out of his lair without being seen, but more importantly how did he escape the angry mob while he was down here. There must be more passages that led out of here. Now probably wasn't a good time to go exploring, especially since she'd been working all day. She finished her meal and washed the plates, setting them out on the table for madame Giry. She decided that she should probably take a bath before she did anything else. She hadn't taken one since she escaped, unless you count swimming in one of the lakes she passed by. She had done that to clean off the blood on her hands. Images of blood dripping down her hands flashed into her mind. She couldn't remember what caused the blood. But she could remember the strong feeling of anger and fear coursing through her blood.

Grabbing the towel and the spare change of clothes madame Giry had given her, she entered a bathroom. She turned on the faucet and waited for the tub to fill. Then she poured some hot water into the tub to heat up the water. Stripping off her worn clothes, she noticed that the spell didn't just affect her face. Even with the shattered mirror, she could see that she was quite a frightful sight. Parts of her body looked burnt and scarred just like her face and the same vine like tattoos covered her. What intrigued her was that the cut she had received the previous day was now completely healed and without a scar and that she wasn't in any pain. She turned away from the horrific sight, entered the tub, and quickly washed herself. Once done, she got dressed and headed for the swan bed.

* * *

She woke with cold sweat dripping down her forehead. No, she wasn't a monster. She didn't kill anyone. But her nightmares felt surreal, like she was seeing through the eyes of a beast. It was the same place where Gaston took her, but this time she saw two men lying on the ground with pools of crimson red blood around them. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw their pale dead faces with terror in their eyes. She needed fresh air. She couldn't go back to sleep now.

She quickly got up and dressed. Grabbing madame Giry's map, she left the lair. The opera house held an eerie silence as she walked through it. She saw some stair that must've led up to the roof. Perhaps stargazing would calm her. Immediately she headed for the spiraling stairs. The blast of cool air that came through the open door was refreshing. She looked around the rooftop. Several large statues stood proudly on the roof. Most were figures of beautiful Greek gods and goddesses, but the most magnificent one was a life sized winged horse overlooking the streets of Paris. Her little sister would've loved this place with it's enchanting atmosphere and the mesmerizing night sky. Too bad they never came to this place when they were still a complete family.

"Why couldn't things be like they used to? Why did everything have to change?", she whispered to the glistening stars.

"Do you always talk to yourself when you think you're alone?", a woman's voice said from behind. She knew this voice and deeply despised it. Her blood begin to boil with rage.

"What do you want from me?", Anastasia hostilely said, eyeing the woman that ruined her.

"That's no way to speak to a lady now. Don't you have any manners?", the lady said.

"Manners? Oh, is it really I who doesn't have manners?", she responded. "It seems to me that you're always the one who disturbs my peace."

"Well, then I'll just be off now.", the lady said coolly.

"Wait, no. Don't go.", Anastasia said, regretting her sudden burst of anger. She needed this lady's help to turn back. She had to convince her to reverse whatever she did to her. "Please change me back."

"I'm afraid I can't do that.", the lady said.

"Why not?", she asked desperately.

"I don't have the power to reverse wishes.", the lady replied. Anastasia gazed far off into the sky and took a deep breathe.

"So there's no way to change me back?", she asked. "I'll be this hideous monster forever?"

"There is a way...", the lady said.

"Well, what is it?", she demanded impatiently.

"I'll tell you if you let me speak, child.", the lady scolded. "Only you can break the spell for it was you who wished it."

"I didn't wish to become a monster.", she said.

"But turning into a beast caused your wishes to come true.", the lady argued.

"How do I turn back?", she asked.

"Learn to appreciate what you have. Learn to love and be loved back.", the lady answered.

"The first I can deal with. But do you truly think that someone would love a monster like me?", she asked bitterly.

"Make them see past your appearance.", the lady advised.

"Why love?", she asked.

"Because that's what you were running from.", the lady answered. "Also one last thing. You only have three years before the spell becomes permanent."

"What?!", she cried out and turned around to face the lady. But she was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a single glittering red rose.

"When the rose dies, the spell will be permanent.", the lady's voice whispered in her ear.

"Three years. Three years isn't enough.", she muttered as she picked up the beautiful rose.

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	6. Chapter 6: Unleashed

**Disclaimer: **Although I've also stated this many times in the previous chapters, I'll say it again. I don't own any part of the _Phantom of the Opera_. Though I believe that I do own my oc :D *Cheers*

**Author: **Thanks to everyone who's read this story and a special thanks to those who have either reviewed, favorited, or followed. Alright, please enjoy this chapter!

**3rd Person pov**

_Two and a half years later…_

Anastasia stood there silently, watching the young man in front of her. He was so close, yet so far. She had to show herself to him soon, so that he'd know she was real. Six month was all she had left. A few of the petals on the magical rose had already fallen. She wasn't sure how she was going to convince him to see past her appearance, but she had to try. She had nearly given up completely, until a month ago when she saw him.

* * *

_A month before…_

"Please, monsieur, I beg you please let my little sister stay at the opera house.", a young man pleaded as he followed one of the managers, who was heading for their office.

"I am sorry, but we only allow our workers to live here.", monsieur Firmin stated.

"She'll be six soon.", the boy said. "She could become a dancer here."

"We just simply can not allow family members to live in the opera house without a good cause.", monsieur Firmin said. "And we especially can't allow a stagehand of all things to get special privileges."

"Please there must be a spare room here.", he said.

"They're reserved for the dancers and singers.", Firmin said in a tone that suggested that the discussion was over. But the boy still stood there unmoving. Letting out a sigh, he asked, "Why does your sister need to live here? Don't you already have a home?"

"She recently recovered from a terrible fever. Our home is too cold for her, but I can not leave our fireplace lit while I'm away at work.", the boy replied.

"What about your parents?", Firmin asked.

"Yes. But my father has become an alcoholic due to my mother's death and he doesn't seem to care about anything anymore.", the boy said grievously.

"I am truly sorry for your conditions. But I simply can't allow this place to become a nursery home.", Firmin said.

"I swear I'll work twice as hard. She won't be a distraction at all.", he assured as Firmin walked through his office doors.

"I have work to do, boy.", monsieur Firmin said as he was about to close the door.

"Please at least consider it.", the boy pleaded one last time as the door was shut in his face.

Unknown to them, Anastasia had witnessed the entire encounter with the utmost curiosity. The way the boy pleaded had moved her. She could see that he was extremely desperate. Desperate enough to beg the manager and risk his job for his younger sister. The fact that his sister was sick and living in a cold place reminded her of her own little sister. If she couldn't save her own sister, perhaps she could at least save another's.

* * *

_Present…_

Anastasia continued to watch the young, handsome man gently tuck his little sister into a warm bed. He sat down on a stool next to her and began to read a bedtime story to her. He had a soothing voice that she'd get lost in. She had to do something fast before she ran out of time. Slowly she backed away from the mirror and walked into the dark, familiar tunnels.

As she neared her lair, her head was filled with thoughts that revolved around ways to win the boy's heart. She was so lost in thoughts that she failed to notice a shadow slowly glide behind her. Suddenly a thick rope slid around her neck, cutting off her circulation. She struggled hard to loosen its grip. But her attempts were in vain, she couldn't get her hands under the rope. She tried to cry out, but her voice was muffled by the tight rope. She felt the frantic pounding of her heart. Letting go of the rope, she elbowed her unknown assassin. The lack of oxygen had significantly weakened her limbs, causing her attacks to fail.

Her head was pounding and her vision blurred. She couldn't believe it. She was going to die, just when she had an ounce of hope. She felt her pulse become fainter. Images of her family flashed before her eyes. Her mother's radiant smile and her little sister's sparkling eyes whenever they'd go on a grand adventure into the woods. Then without a warning, those images were replaced with those evil gleaming eyes of Gaston as he was about to kill her.

_Monster_

_Beast_

_Witch_

Cruel voices whispered into her ears, filling her with rage. She was going to die as a monster. Heaven wasn't going to accept her. She was a monster. She wouldn't be reunited with her family. Her heart beat quickened again, no longer allowing her to die. She felt her seething blood coursing throughout her. With renewed strength, her hands tore the rope apart.

The beast turned around and faced its attacker, who had carefully backed away from it. It charged at the dark cloaked man and slashed at him with ferocious speed. The man ducked down and evaded its razor-sharp claws by a fraction of a second. The beast growled in frustration as its claws tore through the stone walls, leaving four deep marks forever in the walls. Its glowing golden eyes scanned the dark room for the man. It sniffed the air and found his scent.

The man felt the beast's golden eyes land on him. He had hoped that hiding in the shadows would've thrown it off his trail. The beast started approaching him again. During the time it tried to search for him, he had found a decorative sword that was hanging on the walls. He unsheathed it and tossed the scabbard away. He faced the beast with a new found determination. The beast paused a few feet away from his sword, eyeing it with animosity.

They stood there frozen, waiting for someone to make the first move. The faint ticks of the clock in the room slowly counted down every second that past by. The man knew that the beast was searching for his weakness. He wasn't going to allow it anymore time to analyze him, so he took to the offensive side. Without hesitation, he swiftly stepped toward the beast and aimed his sword at the beast's chest. The beast easily avoided his sword and was on the ground on all fours like a wolf. He slashed at the beast a few more time. But it evaded his blade every time.

Their dance was bewitching. The beast gracefully avoided every slash of the sword as if it was toxic while adding in a few slashes of its own. The man dexterously attacked the beast, giving it no ground. He managed to fend off all of the beasts fatal strikes. The dance escalated. Their dark shadows were rhythmically moving back and forth across the cavern walls. The pace rapidly quicken as if the choreography of man and beast were about to come to an end.

The agonizing cry of the beast echoed throughout the stone walls of the lair. Red blood dripped down from its arm and landed in a puddle on the floor. The sight of its own blood enraged it past the breaking point. The ounce of humanity that remained in it seemed to vanish with its howl of pain. It no longer held back its rage. Closing in on the startled man, it grabbed the man's wrist just as he was about to strike again. Its forceful grip caused the sword to slide out of man's hand and drop to the ground with a ring.

The beast now held the man to its level with its claws around his neck. Its golden eyes were now blood red. It prepared to end this man. It slowly drew back its arm to strike the final fatal blow to decapitate the man.

"Stop!", a woman's cry broke out. "Don't kill him!" The beast hesitated in mid strike. It cocked it head to the side. The voice sounded familiar.

"Anastasia, if that's you. Please, I'm begging you don't hurt him.", the voice pleaded. The beast's eyes refocused on the man it was about to kill. Half of the man's face was hidden by a white mask. Who was this man, but more curiously who was that aggravating woman who dared to order the beast around? Immediately the beast dropped the man to the ground and approached the woman on all fours. It stared up into the woman's wide fearful eyes.

"Anastasia, please don't come any closer.", the woman in front of it said desperately. Who's Anastasia? The beast continued to stare at the woman trying to remember something that was eluding its mind. As it thought, its glowing red eyes slowly faded and became golden again. "Anastasis, it's me madame Giry.", the woman said. "Please remember who you truly are." Suddenly, the beast looked more confused than threatening.

Anastasia stared up at the scared woman in front of her and realized that it was madame Giry. She remembered that she was supposed to be taller than her, but then why did she have to look up?

"Please don't hurt me.", madame Giry pleaded. Hurt? Why did she believe that she was going to hurt her? Staring into madame Giry's eyes, she noticed that there was a reflection of a terrifying beast in it. Slowly she looked down and noticed that her clothes were torn and the visible parts of her body were covered in dark fur. She lifted her hands up and saw some blood dripping down from her sharp claws. Madame Giry backed up from her in fear as she lifted up her hands. Immediately, Anastasia turned and ran away. She felt anger boiling within her again, but this time it was at herself.

Madame Giry watched in disbelief and relief as the beast got up, turned, and ran off into a dark passageway of the lair.

**Author: **So I'm dying to know, how was the fighting? And how do you like the Phantom's entrance? Please **read and review** :D


	7. Chapter 7: Enigmatic Beast

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Phantom of the Opera_ and I do not profit off of this Fanfiction in any way or form. Unless you count reviews and views as a form of currency. :P

**Author:** Enjoy!

**3rd Person pov**

Madame Giry stood paralyzed even after the beast had vanished into the darkness of the tunnels. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Those demonic red eyes remained etched in her mind. However, they had morphed into those familiar golden eyes. Could that horrifying beast truly be Anastasia? But throughout the entire time that she had known her, she had never seen this side of her. Despite her grotesque appearance, the girl had remained so civil and at times she even held a regal air, not like those of the spoiled nobility that frequented the opera house. It wasn't possible, they couldn't be one and the same. The beast didn't seem to recognize her name and a for a moment she had feared that the only reason it approached her was because her voice had startled it.

"Madame Giry, are you alright?", Erik asked as he walked towards her.

"I'm just… a bit shocked.", she murmured.

"What was that thing?", Erik demanded now that he knew she was fine.

"I don't know.", was all she was able to say.

"You called it Anastasia and it seemed to recognize you.", he stated. "Therefore you must know something about it!"

"I've never seen it before.", she said, still staring at the spot where the beast had been a few minutes before. She was still in the state of shocked that she wasn't completely capable to processing her thoughts into words.

"Well then, who's Anastasia and why is she here?", Erik asked with frustration clearly showing on the exposed side of his face. As much as he wished to interrogate the information out of her, he knew he'd get nothing since she was awfully pale. However, he was relieved that she hadn't fainted and that she was still capable of forming a sentence. Grown men would have cowered in fear and curled up in the fetal position if they had seen the beast's fury.

He lit more of the candelabras in the room to lighten the daunting atmosphere the beast had left behind. Then he headed for the kitchen in search of some soothing tea to calm madame Giry. He was amazed that his lair wasn't a completely devastated. In fact it was quite the opposite, everything was arranged neatly and there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. He recalled hearing the intense smashing and cracking noises of his belongings being destroyed by the mob as he fled. He assumed that he had this Anastasia to thank for the restoration of his lair, but he was far from happy that an unknown stranger had gone through his things. He gently set the warm teapot and two cups down on the table. Then he poured tea into each cup. Madame Giry appeared to have partially recovered from her shocked state, since color had returned to her face.

"I want to know everything.", Erik stated in a voice, which told her that he probably wasn't going to let her leave until he got his answers. Madame Giry sipped her tea for a while and then set it down carefully on the wooden table, preparing herself to talk.

"I honestly don't know much about her past.", she said. Erik's eyes blazed with annoyance when he heard that. "But I'll tell you what I know and how we met." She recounted the entire story from the beginning. Then she told him the story that Anastasia had told her as inconceivable as it may be. But having her turn into a full fledged beast, which seemed to come directly out of the ancient myths that depicted fearsome werewolfs prowling the forests at night, defied all the laws of physics.

"Why did you let her live in my lair?", Erik asked irately.

"Where else was she going to stay?", madame Giry shot back. "You didn't seem to be coming back anytime soon."

"You invited a beast into my home!", he countered.

"How was I to know that she was a beast?", she asked. She thought for a moment and then a revelation hit her when she saw a torn rope lying on the ground. "What did you do to her?"

"Me?! What do you mean, what did I do to her?", Erik asked with anger and hurt flashing across his face. "Do you truly believe that I'm capable of turning someone into a monster?"

"No. But you somehow set her off.", she answered as calmly as she could. "Other than the time she managed to defeat the three men, I've never seen her angry before. And even then she hadn't turned into a beast. She had a gun directed at her and she didn't change. So what happened here?" Erik relaxed a bit when he heard her explanation.

"I tried to strangle her and I almost managed to, but then she changed.", he said.

"You what?", she gasped. "Why would you do that?"

"I thought she was a man intruding on my home.", he said even though he didn't have to answer her. He decided to change the subject. He still wanted to know more about this girl. "So you say that she's been playing the role of the Phantom of the Opera in my absence?"

"She started a few months after I brought her here.", madame Giry said. "I don't believe she ever intended to. But the fall of the chandelier and the the fact that the managers are still incapable of running an opera house caused them to go nearly bankrupt."

"So then what'd she do? She couldn't have paid for it, could she?", he asked curiously.

"That's exactly what she did. I don't know how she did it, but all the managers' concerns seemed to disappear overnight", she said.

"Where'd she get all the money from?", he asked.

"I'm not sure. But she did say she was a noble before she changed.", she answered. "Perhaps her family was extremely wealthy. But who would have over half a million francs to spare?"

"Half a million francs?!", he said bewildered. "The repair costed more than I imagined."

"The opera house also failed to sell tickets for months after it was renovated due to lack of divas and management skills. We lost both Christine and Carlotta and a lot of patrons that night.", she added in. Erik tense when he heard Christine's name, even after two and a half years he couldn't forget her. Just hearing her name pained him. Madame Giry sensed a shift in Erik's demeanor and knew immediately that she shouldn't have said her name. A faint disturbing howl, followed by a ringing sound broke them out of their oppressive, volatile state.

"Perhaps, you should leave now.", Erik said in a hushed tone, while escorting madame Giry out of his lair.

"What was that noise?", madame Giry whispered.

"I believe the beast has set off one of my traps.", he answered. He quickened his pace and practically had to drag the frightened madame Giry along. Once he had made sure that she was safely locked up in her room, he traveled back down to his lair. Even after being gone for over two years, he still had every hidden route, passageway, and trap in his opera house memorized. He set off in search of the beast. Every trap had been wired to make a unique sound so that locating intruders would be simple, which is also why he hadn't immediately tried to find the beast. The beast was in no imminent danger, other than the fact that it was trapped with itself in a stone cavern.

As he approached the sealed cavern, the terrible anguish howls of the beast grew louder. He halted in mid stride when he was close to the hidden door. The howls had slowly grown silent as if it sensed his presence. The cool breeze swept through the tunnel causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prick up. Apprehension filled the air. He delicately set his torch on a nearby sconce. Then step by step, he cautiously walked towards the door. The beast still hadn't made a sound. As quietly as he could, he removed a small stone from the wall and peered into the hole.

The room was pitch black, but he managed to see the dim outline of the beast hunched over. Its arms seemed to be clasping its face in agony. He heard faint whimpers filled with pain coming from the beast. Gradually it died down as the silhouette of the beast seemingly morphed before his eyes. It was hard to make out, but the spiky outline of the beast's fur slowly receded until there was only a thin figure of a human kneeling in its place. Unable to stand properly, the dark figure staggered forward and crumpled to the stone ground.

Erik waited at least ten minutes before he decided to enter the dark cavern. He had to make sure that the beast wouldn't wake again. Simultaneously pressing a few hidden knobs on the stone wall, the door slowly opened. He grabbed his torch off the wall and walked inside. A trail of fresh blood was splattered across the floor, leading him to the figure. The cut he had given the beast couldn't have caused it to bleed this much. His eyes wandered throughout the entire room and finally settled on the small figure lying in a pool of blood. Its clothes were torn beyond repair. Shining the torch down on the figure, he inspected it closely. The figure was lying face down on the ground. Long dark hair covered its face. With his fingers, he delicately brushed the hair aside revealing the girl's face. Her face was almost horrid enough to match his. The top half of it was badly burnt, distorting the face. Swirling vine tattoos covered the undamaged parts of her face, causing her to look even more savage and inhuman.

He stood there silently, contemplating whether he should leave this miserable creature to its current fate. If he didn't act fast, nature would surely decide for him. As gently as he could, he flipped the figure onto its back to assess its injuries. Her white shirt was soaked in fresh blood that originated from her waist. Five jagged lines tore through the shirt. Her right shoulder was also wounded with the same marks. She must have taken her beastly rage out on herself. He quickly checked her pulse. It was so faint that he nearly missed it. Moving her could be fatal, but so was leaving her on the cold stone floors. He couldn't treat her injuries here.

Instinctively, Erik set his torch on the wall and cut off part of his cloak in order to bandage the girl's shoulder. Then he wrapped the remainder of the cloak tightly around the girl's waist, hoping that it'd stop the bleeding. Finally, he carefully lifted the unconscious girl off the ground and carried her as fast as he could to his lair without further injuring her. It felt like an eternity had passed before he saw the familiar sight of his lair.

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	8. Chapter 8: Clues

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own the _Phantom of the Opera_.

**Author:** Thanks again to all my wonderful reviewers and readers. It's great to know that people are spending their time to read this story!

**Erik's Pov (The Phantom)**

Striding into my room, I gently set the unconscious girl down onto the bed. Her severe cuts needed to be cleaned and bandaged. I hoped that she hadn't displaced my belongings for her life was depending on it now. Running into the bathroom, I frantically searched for bandages, a towel, and a sewing kit. Opening up the cabinet, I immediately found them. They were in the same spot where I had left them, but some of the items looked new. Grabbing the ones I needed along with a bucket of warm water, I rushed back out to tend to the girl.

First, I had to remove the girl's torn up clothes that covered the cuts. Grabbing the scissors, I cut through her white shirt because I didn't want to move her again before determining the full effects of the wounds. I was relieved to see that she wore undergarments, but I felt a small pang of disappointment gnawing in me. Brushing away that troublesome feeling, I continued working. I ended up cutting off a part of her undershirt that had stuck to the cuts due to the dried blood. Once I had finally cleared all the torn pieces of fabric from her injuries, I dipped a towel into the warm water and delicately wiped away all the dried blood. When the blood was gone, I was astonished by the sight before me. All her cuts had already begun to close up. Not even I heal as fast as her. Judging by the immense amount of blood loss, I had expected her cuts to be fairly deep. Her wounds didn't require stitches now, so I decided clean the cuts once more before I bandaged them. I repeated this process on her shoulder cuts. Finally, I removed her torn black gloves and boots.

Taking one last glance at the girl before I covered her with a thick blanket, I noticed that various regions of the girl's arms and body had burnt scars and tattoos, just like her face. I couldn't help but wonder if she had tattooed herself. But some of them would've been impossible for her alone to do. I examined her face again and realized that she had open cuts slashing through her face at various angles. They weren't bleeding but they weren't healing either. Her silver tattoos protruded outwards unlike her black tattoos. Could madame Giry's tale about the girl being magically transformed into a beast be true? This girl was an enigma that I intend to figure out.

I sat there for a while, waiting for her to wake. But she still hadn't stirred an inch. Transforming into that beast and having her body repair her wounds must've completely exhausted her. I desperately wanted to hear her tell her story because madame Giry's story aroused more questions than answers. Throughout my travels from the farthest reaches of Russia to the deserts of Persia, I had never met or seen anything as puzzling as this girl in front of me. Through my extensive knowledge on science and physics, I'm capable of unraveling and reconstructing even the most complex magic tricks just by watching it a single time. But this girl's transformation conflicted with everything I had ever known. Curiosity was eating away my patience.

When I couldn't take the suspense anymore, I got up and left the chair. Perhaps investigating the lair would ease my anxiety and provide some clues about this girl. I wandered throughout my lair, but all I found was a full white mask lying on the ground and the girl's cape. There wasn't any personal belongings anywhere to be seen. The only personal items in the room belonged to me. All she had done was rearrange some of them. The only places I still hadn't checked was Christine's bedroom and the library. I decided to investigate Christine's room first because I knew that the girl probably slept and used that room the most. I slowly pushed the door open, revealing the familiar sight of the beautiful swan bed that I had created just for Christine. Just for Christine. I felt my temper rising. The girl shouldn't have used this room. She wasn't Christine. She had no right to use it. After a while, my anger gradually waned.

Looking around, I realized that the room was almost exactly as it had been left two years ago. The only difference was the white night gown that was neatly folded and set over the dresser chair. Perhaps the drawers had something of hers. Checking through all of them. I found nothing of interest, other than men's clothing. The dresser was still filled with Christine's dresses that seemed to be untouched. From what madame Giry had told me, this girl was supposed to be rich. But then why didn't she have anything? Why hadn't she lavished this lair with her belongings? Frustration was nearly tearing me apart. I hadn't found anything that gave the slightest hint on her past or family.

Storming out of the room, I found myself wandering towards the library. As I entered the room, I noticed that all my books had been moved. All the bookshelves were rearranged. I wondered for a moment why'd she'd move them all around, until I realized that the mob must have dumped all the books off of the shelves in anger. Scanning the vast room, my eyes landed on my desk. It was a complete mess. Stacks of books were piled on a corner. Papers were scattered around the table. Charcoal, ink and a fountain pen sat on the other corner. A few books were lain open on the table. So this girl wasn't obsessively clean after all. Skimming all the books, I was surprised that the girl read a large variety of books from fictional plays by Shakespeare to large scientific encyclopedias about medicine. There were random sketches and scribbles of notes on the scattered papers. When I was done examining the desk, I noticed a giant leather bound book on human and animal anatomy sitting alone on the desk. I would've expected it to be open if she was using it or if she wasn't it should've been with the rest of the books. Perhaps I was being way too critical, but I decided to check it out just in case. Flipping through the pages, I realized that I had hit a gold mine. Half the pages were empty, but the other half contained sketches and journal entries with dates. Immediately, I turned to the front and started reading.

* * *

_rose. How could something this beautiful be so cruel? At first, I had been enamored with it. It was possibly the most perfect flower on earth and I swear that it was sparkling. But then I heard that strange, peculiar, irritating lady reminding me that I only had three years. This oh so beautiful rose with lush red petals is just a timer that counted down each and every second that passes until my gruesome fate is eternaly sealed. In that moment, I had wanted to simply tear the rose apart piece by piece and hurl its remains over the roof top. But I didn't. I had to make sure it didn't die. I couldn't let any harm come to it. I wasn't sure whether the lady truly meant that when the rose dies then my time was up or if I had three years to undo everything despite the rose. I wasn't willing to take the chance. _

* * *

I was completely puzzled by what I had just read. Either the girl was writing in the most unusual coded language or I was missing something. I settled on the latter. No one starts a page with "rose." Inspecting the book closely, I noticed that a few of the front pages had been ripped out. Those pages must have held something important, but the chances that they were lying somewhere around here was far too slim. I quickly flipped through the rest of the book. It was filled with countless pages of entries and charcoal sketches. I observed that most of her sketches were of the same girl. She was always drawn with the same bright friendly eyes and a wide smile. She had short curly hair and she always wore dresses. The girl's age seemed to vary throughout the drawings, but she never looked older than twelve or thirteen. These sketches were always on separate pages apart from the entries. Was this what Anastasia had looked like before she changed? It was almost impossible to imagine that this beautiful girl was her.

I felt myself getting fatigued. I hadn't slept since early morning and even then I didn't get a good sleep. Ever since Christine had left me, I haven't managed to sleep soundly. I spent endless nights thinking about her. Thinking about all the things I could've done to persuade her to stay. Wishing that I had a second chance to win her. I carefully replace the book on the desk in the exact position I had found it in and left the library. I needed to rest before the girl woke. I'd have more time to read her journal later, now that I've found it.

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	9. Chapter 9: Confrontation

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _The Phantom of the Opera_ and I never will.

**Author:** Enjoy!

**3rd Person Pov**

Anastasia woke with her entire body aching, as if she'd been hit by a train. Pushing the blankets off of her, she noticed that her shirt was missing and that the bottom half of her undershirt had been cut off. She stared down at her stomach and saw five sharp marks cutting through her stomach. She couldn't remember how she had gotten them nor could she remember how she had ended up in this bed. The last thing she recalled was feeling unable to breath and then the next thing she saw was madame Giry's terrified eyes staring down at her. She felt a sense of despair tugging at her. What had she done?

The sound of paper crumpling and being turned broke her from her thoughts. Someone else was in her lair. Immediately, she left the bed and tossed on random long sleeved shirt. Walking towards the door, she smelled the warm scent of coffee coming from the cracks. Whoever was out there had definitely made themselves comfortable. Slowly she opened the door and stepped through.

A well dressed man in black was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. A pot of coffee sat on the table along with two cups. She couldn't see the man's face though because the newspaper was blocking her view.

"I see you've finally decided to wake.", the man said as he set down his newspaper, revealing his face. Nearly half of his face was covered by a white mask, but the other side showed a finely chiseled face. His fine looks could easily compete with all the handsome young aristocrats that she had met. Suddenly, she felt a desperate need to find her mask so she scanned around the room in search of it. Normally, she only wore the white mask when she would wander the opera house as the Phantom. Ignoring the man, she quickly grabbed her full mask and placed it on her face.

"What are you doing here?", she coldly asked with her self confidence returning to her.

"I could ask the same to you, considering that this is my home.", he said.

"Then you must be the Phantom of the Opera.", she stated.

"That I am and you must know that I don't enjoy having someone impersonate me in my absence.", he said in a dangerously low tone as he got up from the table.

"My apologies, but there was no other way for me to save this opera house.", she answered, easily ignoring his threatening tone.

"And why would you want to save it?", he asked.

"It'd be a waste to see such a beautiful place become deserted.", she said. "And many people would lose their jobs if this place shut down." The man looked surprised by her second answer.

"Why do you care about people who wouldn't think twice about killing you if they see you?", he asked somewhat bitterly.

"Well, no one deserves to starve and live in poverty, do they now?", she asked. "But, I believe we're straying from the question on hand."

"And that would be?", he asked.

"Why are you here?", she asked.

"I intend to live here.", he answered simply.

"I hope you've realized that I'm living here now and I have no intentions of leaving.", she said. The dark haired man paused for a moment as if he was making a crucial decision.

"Well in that case, it's a good thing that there's two bedrooms.", the man said easily. If her mask wasn't on, the man would've seen the uttermost look of disbelief that was plastered on her face.

"You're fine with living with me?", she asked with surprise clearly in her voice.

"Why wouldn't I be?", the man asked so innocently that she knew he was trying to mess with her.

"It's quite clear why as you said yourself, most people wouldn't think twice about killing me.", she said while trying to figure out why this man, the Phantom, seemed to be completely relaxed at the thought of sharing the lair with her. He seemed like he actually wanted her to stay. She had been expecting him to at least put up a fight over the lair, but he simply made a rational compromise. Something was off. She felt like she was walking into a trap with a blindfold on. She wanted to refuse the man's compromise, but it was far too reasonable and quite frankly she wasn't cruel enough to kick this man from his own home even if he'd been gone for over two years.

"But I'm not like most people.", the man responded indignantly as if comparing him to others was the worst insult possible.

"If you're truly comfortable with living here, then suit yourself.", she said as she walked towards her room. If this man really wanted to stay, then he could but she sure wasn't going to play the role of the hospitable host. She had more pressing problems to deal with.

"I believe we should at least get acquainted now that we're roommates.", he called after her in a commanding tone.

"My name's Anastasia.", she said as she entered her room and closed the door without looking back.

**-o-**

Anger burned inside the Phantom as he watched the insolent girl walk away. He had allowed her to live in his home and now this is how she repays him with a door to his face only bothering to tell him her name and not even asking for his. Madame Giry had told him that the girl was always courteous and friendly although she could be quite reclusive sometimes. Was it because of his appearance that even this beast would turn away from him and treat him differently? Rage erupted inside him at this thought.

He wanted to storm into the room and confront her. Strike fear into her heart. But he couldn't, his promise to Christine was holding him back. He had promised her that her room would be a sanctuary from him and his anger. He wasn't going to break his precious oath to Christine just for this impertinent girl. He angrily paced back and forth. His rage was clouding his mind, he needed to get out of the lair before he did something irrational.

**-o-**

Anastasia heard the man's footsteps fade away as he left the lair. Silently, she unlocked her door and pushed it open. She quickly walked towards the library. Instantly, she headed for her desk, checking to see if it had been touched. The papers and books on her desk had been moved, but she sighed in relief Awhen she saw that her journal had been untouched. She quickly straightened out her desk and replaced all the books, including her journal back onto the shelves. She had learned long ago that the best place to hide things was in plain sight.

The heavy scent of blood that seemed to be radiating from her was causing her to feel nauseous. Her muscle and bones felt extremely sore as if they had been dislocated and then roughly shoved back in place. She desperately needed a hot bath, so she strolled backed into her room towards the bathroom. After making sure that all her locks were secure, she turned on the faucets and stripped off her worn clothes.

When Anastasia had finished washing her hair and scrubbing down her body with soap, she decided to let herself relax and allow her body to soak up the remaining warmth of the water. Her hand absentmindedly glided over her neck. At once she realized that something was missing. Immediately, she sat up in the tub and searched for her necklace. No, it couldn't have been gone. Quickly, she drained the tub of water. As the water level slowly fell, she felt herself becoming more and more desperate. Her hope was draining away with the water. Finally, only a few bubbles remained in the tub and she felt her heart drop. She had lost it.

It was the only thing she had left that reminded her of her mother. The smooth gem on it had brought comfort to her throughout her hardships and misfortunes. The knowledge that her mother had worn it at some point in time had eased her loneliness. But now she was truly alone for it was gone. She quickly dried herself with a towel and combed her hair. Tossing on some clean clothes and her mask, she hastily exited her room. She cursed internally when she noticed that the aggravating masked man was waiting outside for her.

"I believe we really must discuss your lack of hospitality skills.", the man said coldly in a commanding tone. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he said it.

"I believe we must work on your greeting skills first, otherwise my hospitality skills would unfortunately be useless.", she countered.

"Trust me, I was not greeting you. But I believe there's also another reason we won't be getting any guests.", the man said as he gestured towards the stone wall. Anastasia's gaze turned towards the wall and she felt sheer dread fill her. Four claw marks were deeply embedded in the wall.

"So you know.", she stated unable to meet his eye. She couldn't deny it any longer. Nothing else would explain the marks on her stomach and on the wall. She had turned into a beast.

"What are you?", he demanded. His question felt like daggers stabbing into her.

"What am I?", she scoffed with anger and hurt replacing her dread. "Well, considering the fact that both my parents were human. I do believe that would make me human too, wouldn't it?", she asked sarcastically.

"From my experience, humans are incapable of turning into furry beasts with long claws.", he said.

"Well now you've seen a human turn into a beast.", she said with a sneer

"How did you become a beast?", he asked.

"I don't really know.", she said while trying to calm herself. She needed to control her anger. A simple question like that shouldn't have spiked her anger that much.

"But there must be a story behind it.", he said.

"What is there to say? Magic?", she questioned mockingly. As she walked up towards the wall, she slowly traced the claw marks with her fingers. She truly was a monster. Her proud shoulders fell and tensed as Madame Giry's fearful green eyes haunted her memory. "Did I hurt her?", she asked desperately.

"Who?", the man asked, surprised by the change in the girl's attitude and conversation.

"Madame Giry. Did I hurt her?", she repeated. Every second that passed by felt like an eternity. She needed to know. Her fingers curled into a fist in apprehension and she was about to repeat the question when the man spoke.

"No. She's fine.", he said while watching the girl's shoulders visibly relax though her distant look remain.

"Did I hurt you?", she asked, still not facing him.

"Nothing severe.", he said while pondering her previous two questions. "You don't remember?"

"I only remember bits and pieces.", she admitted. By suppressing all the fragmented haunting memories of being a beast, she regained her composure and turned around to face the man. Her golden eyes remained distant and the fire within them had died. "What happened? How did I end up in the bed?"

"We fought. Madame Giry interrupted us and you ran away.", he said. "Then you set off a trap and ended up clawing yourself. Once you fainted, I brought you back and tended to your wounds."

"Why?", she asked.

"Curiosity.", he answered coolly.

"Curiosity.", she repeated in disbelief while letting out a laugh. "Curiosity caused you to save the beast. Ever heard the phrase; curiosity killed the cat?"

"I'm not a cat am I, mademoiselle? But if I were, than I'd have nine lives to waste.", he said.

"I appreciate your formality, but mademoiselle no longer suits me.", she said while looking away. "Call me Anastasia."

"Anastasia.", he said.

"I don't believe I ever asked for your name.", she said.

"Just call me, Phantom.", he said.

"Alright, Phantom.", she said, emphasizing his name clearly offended that he didn't share his real name. "It seems we've wasted enough time chatting. Feel free to make yourself comfortable, not that you haven't already. (Motioning to the coffee) I apologize for my informality before. But now I must attend to some business and take my leave." The Phantom watched her exit the lair. He was tempted to follow, but he decided that perhaps checking out her diary while she was out would provide him with more information.

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	10. Chapter 10: Note From Above

**Disclaimer: **As always, I do not own _the Phantom of the Opera_.

**Author:** Enjoy!

**3rd Person Pov**

Anastasia wandered aimlessly around the Opera House with a stolen loaf of bread with some fresh cheese and ham shoved into it. Lunch must have just ended because it was relatively easy to steal and prepare the sandwich with the chefs on their break. She carefully hid in the shadows, observing the dancers and singers preparing for the latest auditions that were going to be held at the end of the week.

She watched the stagehands bustle about; preparing the stage, sweeping around all corners, and tightening all the ropes up above. Catching a glimpse of his messy golden blonde hair, she strides closer to him from above the set and drops a letter she had been carrying down below and fades back into the darkness.

**-o-**

He was surprised when a white letter gently floated down from above directly towards his feet. He hesitated when he picked it up. Quickly, he scanned around searching for the owner of this letter. Everyone around him didn't seem to notice it, much of the crew were preparing the stage for the upcoming opera, Orpheus and Eurydice. Slowly he broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter.

* * *

_When the sun has set and the bell strikes 9, meet me in the private rehearsal room with the golden piano on the 6th floor. I have a very generous offer for you. If you accept, fame and fortune shall be yours. Come alone or do not come at all._

* * *

Surely this letter wasn't meant for him, and yet it had dropped from above and had landed at his feet. Perhaps it was a trap staged by the other stagehands in order to embarrass him. Stagehands weren't allowed to wander the opera house without reason, especially at night. Did they know that he had somehow gotten a raise so now they were envious of him? But then, what if he was wrong, and there truly was an offer? He hastily folded the letter back up hand stuffed it in his back pocket. He still had countless hours to make up his mind, so he resumed his work.

_A few hours later..._

His hands fiddled with the letter, while he was silently debating whether he should meet the owner of this mysterious letter. He slowly got up from his chair, not wanting to wake his sister from her peaceful slumber. Her health was stable, but it wasn't getting any better since her terrible fever. No doctors had been able to diagnose her condition yet. They believe that she was fine but just tired. Perhaps this offer would provide him with enough money to get a competent doctor. It was worth the risk. Though he would precede with caution and care, lest he lose his current job.

When he rounded the corner, he saw the rehearsal room with a dim candle lighting it up. This area of the opera house was isolated enough at night that he doubted that anyone would see or hear him entering the room. It was good that no one would see him, but it was also a perfect location for a trap. No one would find him till the morning rehearsals. He cautiously entered the room, prepared to fend off any attackers. Walking towards the light, he saw no one else in the room. Darkness surrounded him. Turning back to the doorway, he noticed that the door was now closed. He tensed up and slowly scanned the room, searching for signs of another person.

"Relax, nothing's going to harm you here. It's no trap, if that's what you're thinking.", a gentle feminine voice said from the darkness. He had ran to the door in an attempt to escape, but the voice had stopped him. "I have a deal for you. You may leave any time you wish if you choose to not accept. Try the door if you really don't trust me." As she said, the door easily opened, letting the light from the halls enter the room. Closing the door, he tried to turn around but a gentle hand stopped him. "I prefer not being seen or known for reasons of my own. I'm going to blindfold you. If you take it off, the deals off. Alright?"

"Alright.", he repeated, unsure what he had just gotten himself into.

"Sit.", the voice said after he was led to a chair. "I'll get straight to the point. I wish to train your voice so that you can become the male lead." Did he hear her correctly? He had badly wished to be a performer instead of just a stagehand since he was young. A few days before, he had told his sister of his dream and now a stranger was offering to train him. Was it chance, fate, or simply coincidence? "Well, do you accept?"

"I'm sorry, but did I hear you correctly? You wish me to be the lead role?", he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. And I shall train your voice and help you become great."

"Who are you?"

"My name is of no importance."

"There has to be a catch."

"I expect that you know how to read and have basic understanding of music."

"Alright, but how will I become the lead? The lead is always given to the sons of nobles, regardless their skills."

"Trust me. I am a patron of this opera house, therefore I have much influence over the decisions that are made. It is also why I wish my identity to remain hidden. Well, do you accept?"

"Am I allowed to back out at any time?"

"Yes. But this offer shall not be extended to you again. The choice is yours."

"Then I accept.", he declared without further hesitation. "So when shall we begin?"

"Now."

"Can I take off the blind fold?"

"No. Now do you have any songs that you can sing? I wish to assess your singing skills."

"Well, I have this one song that I remember well…", he mumbled, unsure of himself.

"And it is?", she asked gently, encouraging him to speak.

"It's a duet called All I Ask of You.", he stated quickly, while feeling his face flush.

"Ah that song. Yes, it's quite a favorite among young nobility.", she said lightly, with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Nevertheless, I do know it and I guess tis only fair that you hear me sing as well."

**-o-**

_Say you love me every waking moment_

_Turn my head with talk of summertime_

_Say you need me with you, now and always..._

The Phantom heard it yet again. That accursed song. He thought he was just imagining it, but as he walked closer to the private rehearsal rooms the song grew louder and louder. Curse these tunnels that act so well as a sound barrier for the outside but amplified sound so that it traveled longer distances on the inside. It didn't help either that their voices sang incredibly well. No, the girl sang incredibly, the guy needed to work on his voice. He pressed against the wall, focusing in on the girl's voice. She sang it with such ease, easily hitting all the notes. Her voice was so soft, so gentle, filled with so much passion. He cursed himself yet again, due to the lack of mirrors in the room. However, there was one hidden entrance to the room.

When the song ended, he longed to hear this unknown girl's voice. Their voices were lower now, but it seemed that the girl was actually tutoring the boy on how to sing. This girl was most likely the prima donna. At least they had a well trained one this time.

"By the way, my name is Anthony Moreau.", the boy said as if enchanted by the girl. "Your voice is beautiful. When shall we meet again?"

"When I have time. Try and memorize your lines and understand the story. Work on your voice, but do not strain yourself.", she replied. He listened as their footsteps move further and further away. Then he quickly unlocked the secret entrance and silently pursued them, hoping to catch a glance of the singers. When he turned the corner, he noticed that there was only a single blonde haired man striding down the corridor with a spring in his steps. Where was the girl? They should still be traveling in the same direction towards the staircase. She couldn't have still been in the dark room. But when he thought about it, he realized that he hadn't actually heard a second pair of footsteps depart. He retraced his steps back to the room in search of the girl. Lighting up the candles, there was no one else in the room.

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	11. Chapter 11: Lost and Found

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own the **Phantom of the Opera**.

**Enjoy!**

**3rd Person pov**

Anastasia was so caught up in the moment that she didn't hear the hidden door click open, nor did she hear the light footsteps that chased after Anthony. She couldn't believe it. She had made her move. She had to follow through now. Her heart pounded with excitement, hope, and fear. Her future now held a glimmer of hope. Staring down at her hands, she imagined them as they were before. She imagined herself free of the scars and tattoos that marred her once beautiful skin. She longed for her former life.

When she realized that she had been completely lost in thought, she quickly turned around and exited the room through the hidden door and head back down to the dark lair. She had avoided that place since the afternoon, choosing to wander aimlessly around the opera house instead of facing that frustrating Phantom of the Opera. She couldn't quite put a finger on how he managed to irritate her so much. She had barely known him for a day and he was constantly on her mind. She decided that he was just another problem to add to her already overflowing ocean of issues.

Instead of heading directly to the lair, she chose to stall a bit longer and search for her mother's necklace. She tried to remember where she had chosen to run to when she had gained control of the beast within her. Her memories were all a blur, like a slideshow of cut up pictures mixed into a bucket already filled with fragments of pictures. Never seeing the full picture. She knew she must've gone someplace, where she wouldn't be able to harm anything. There were quite a few dead end traps in this labyrinth of tunnels. Grabbing and igniting one of the torches off of the walls, she decided to scour the entire underground lair until she found the necklace.

After wandering through the maze of tunnels in futile efforts, Anastasia caught a whiff of blood. Her blood to be exact. She followed the scent like a bloodhound, never stopping till she found the source. For the moment, she had forgotten about her quest to find her necklace. As she got closer to the source, her pace slowed down. The thick smell of aged blood was driving her insane. She had to get a hold of herself and calm her adrenaline and blood down. The smell was coming from the dark room around the corner. She gradually walked toward the room, unsure of what to expect since the scent was so strong even for her heightened senses.

Her face paled and the blazing torch clattered to the cold stone floor. Her heart raced in her chest while she stood stock still, completely paralyze, unprepared for the sight before her. Dark dried velvet blood was smeared all over the walls. Claw marks tore through the stone walls. But most horrific was the puddle of red blood that hadn't completely evaporated yet for some reason. The puddle had made dried up dark red rivers and capillaries between the uneven stones of the floor. The sight itself wasn't what frightened her the most. It was the dark memories that it evoke within her that caused her to be terror-stricken.

Absentmindedly, she picked up the fallen torch and place it on a sconce. Then she collapsed onto the ground too weak to stand up again. Was this what the barn had look like after she escaped? Dead eyes of the two men continued to flash in her mind, always accusing her of murder. Blood may be washed away, but the crimes committed would forever taint her soul. She felt sick in her stomach and she would've up heaved its contents if it weren't already empty. She was a monster, despite her appearance. It only reflected what she truly was, a criminal, a murderer, a tainted soul. She shouldn't even be trying to break the curse. She didn't deserve happiness or love. This was her punishment for her sins that ran deeper than murder, the voices in her head whispered.

**-o-**

**Erik's pov (The Phantom)**

I strided back to the lair with my mind still plagued by questions about the mysterious singer. Reaching the lair, I realized that the girl, Anastasia, still hadn't returned from the afternoon. Nothing had been moved and Christine's door was still wide open. Searching in the library, there was no trace of the girl to be found. My pocket watch read 11:10 pm. She should've been back by now. There would be nothing to do at the opera house. Everyone was asleep or out drinking. I barely realized that the feeling of concern had settled in my heart.

I tried pushing those feelings aside. Why should I, the Phantom of the Opera, feel anything for that annoying, disrespectful girl that had nearly killed me? She was a beast, wasn't she? She could take care of herself. But that stubborn, persistent feeling just didn't go away, even after I had rationalized that she was surely safe. There was only one way to rid myself of this ridiculous feeling; find the girl.

I paced back and forth, thinking about where that girl would go. Was she still in the opera house? If she was, there were hundreds of rooms where she could be hidden in. Once again, frustration was eating at me. First that mysterious singer and now this missing beast. I had thought that returning to this place would've brought me some peace, but apparently the fates wouldn't even allow that. Suddenly, I remember that I had seen a very faint glimmer of light shining from one of the tunnels that I had past by on my way here. I probably should've checked it out, now that I was thinking about it.

Retracing my steps, I searched for that light again. Only after a while, did I realize that this was leading me to the place where I had found the bleeding beast. I increased my pace and nearly ran into the room when I saw the light. Sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall was the girl. She didn't even look up when I entered. Her face was buried in her arms as if she was crying. This sight caused my heart to race a bit.

"What are you doing here?", I asked loudly. The girl didn't stir an inch. I slowly walked towards her, as if she was a hurt animal. I gently nudged her shoulder, trying to wake her. Unsure of what I should do. She slowly looked up, staring straight into my eyes with a nearly blank look. "What are you doing here?", I repeated but more softly.

"I don't really know anymore.", she answered weakly.

"How long have you been here?", I asked. She just shrugged this time, now staring blankly at the bloody wall instead. "Come, you have to get out of here.", I said while offering her my hand.

"No. Please just leave me.", she said with a tired voice. "I deserve this fate."

"What did you do to deserve sitting in a room full of dried blood?", I asked with some mockery in my voice, trying to bring her back to reality. It seemed to work a bit because now she was looking around the bloody room as if she just noticed where she was.

"What? No. I didn't mean being stuck in this room.", she said with a look of agitation.

"Well what did you mean?"

"I meant… I meant being this hideous beast.", she answered.

"So you really weren't always this way?", I asked.

"No."

"How did you get burned so badly?"

"I didn't."

"That's not possible.", I stated.

"I've never been burned before.", she said. "Except for that one time… nevermind."

"Yes?"

"It's nothing. Just one of the many stupid things I did when I was younger.", she answered regretfully.

"Well now that you seem wide awake, are you going to leave this bloody room?"

"Don't feel like moving.", she answered.

"Fine. Then I'm staying.", I said, while moving to sit next to her. But I made sure to leave some distance between us. She didn't seem to care and she continued staring at the wall as if it was more interesting. We probably sat there silently for at least ten minutes.

"Ugh.. Are you seriously going to just sit there in order to annoy me?", she asked while turning to face me. So it worked. I just had to smirk at that.

"Well, it worked didn't it?", I asked, while staring back at her. Strange. I just noticed that she wasn't wearing her mask. I carefully observed her face, wondering what she would've looked like without those scars and tattoos.

"Haha… sadly it did.", she said while a small smile crept onto her face. For a moment, those golden eyes dimmed a little, turning her eye color into a light shade of brown. It must've been a trick of the light because it faded as soon as she turned away. "Don't tell me you're going to just sit there now.", she asked when she had finally replace her mask on her face. She had her hand extended out to me. When she pulled me up, I realized that her hands were freezing cold, colder than mine.

"Your hands are freezing and you're pretty pale. When did you last eat?", I asked. She looked a bit startled by the question.

"I'm fine. Come on. Let's go back before I fall asleep.", she replied.

**Read and Review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Breakfast and Lunch

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Phantom of the Opera._

**Enjoy!**

**Anastasia's Pov**

The smell of warm, fresh cinnamon and coffee slowly woke me from my deep slumber. I must be home, I thought as I snuggled against my soft pillow once again, waiting for one of my servants to wake me. But none came. No one opened my curtains that would've caused bright warm sunlight to stream into my room, waking me. It was all a wonderful dream.

However, that sweet smell, that I couldn't resist, still remained. I quickly pushed aside my thick blankets, jumped out of bed, and landed face down on the ground with a loud thump as I was rushing towards my wardrobe. I silently cursed my badly placed pants as I rubbed my pink knees. So much for being an invincible beast. I hobbled to my wardrobe in shame and tossed on a pair of dark trousers, a matching shirt, and my mask. Then I unsuccessfully combed my tangled dark brown hair. The day was shaping out to be a long one.

"Good morning. It sounds like you got into a fight in there.", the Phantom said with a straight emotionless face.

"Morning. Yeah, that.. I was just wrestling with my pants. It's part of my morning routine, don't worry 'bout it.", I replied sarcastically.

"Would you like some toast, you must be starving?", he asked politely, without acknowledging my sarcasm.

"It smells wonderful, but I must decline.", I said, wishing that I didn't make my mask cover my full face, but I always ate alone so it was never a problem before.

"You know I don't mind your face. Besides I've already seen it.", he said while walking towards me. From behind my mask, I watched as he walked closer to me until we were only inches apart. Staring up into his eyes, I noticed for the first time that his eyes were a unique golden amber color. They were so calming to stare into that I didn't notice his hand slowly glide up and snatch my mask away.

"Hey! Give it back!", I commanded as I immediately tried to cover my face, but stopped since I knew he already seen it.

"I'll give it back once you finish your breakfast.", he stated once he resumed his seat.

"Ugh, why must you be so frustrating?", I said as I slowly sat down on chair opposite to him while eyeing the food suspiciously. I wasn't in the mood to tackle him for it.

"See, it's not poisonous.", he said while he took a bite out of a toast and poured some of the coffee for himself. I grudgingly ate the food in silence. I had to give it to him, it tasted pretty good and refreshing.

"The kitchen's pretty bare and the ice box is empty.", he said, breaking the silence.

"I don't eat meat.", I lied.

"A beast that doesn't eat meat?", he questioned. I responded with a single glare. "That reminds me, I also couldn't find any flour."

"You know you could've just said that all you found was vegetables, herbs and salad dressing, right?", I said.

"Strange. There's a full kitchen, yet there's barely anything in it.", he pondered out loud.

"Fine, you win. I don't know how to cook. Happy?", I said while finishing the last of my cinnamon toast. "Now, may I please have my mask back?"

"You don't know how to cook?", he said, ignoring my question.

"No.", I said and glanced at him expectantly, waiting for my mask to be returned.

"How do you not know how to cook?", he asked with a look of disbelief.

"It's not that surprising. And it's not like I didn't ever try to cook.", I said the last part more to myself. "But anyways, I was banned from the kitchen when I was younger."

"How did you get banned from the kitchen?", he asked with curiosity. This was a strange turn of conversation.

"I may have started a fire in it. Accidentally of course.", I responded a bit guiltily. I got up from my chair, intent on getting my mask back by force if needed now. "Alright, enough story time. Mask." Thankfully, he handed it back to me.

"That was barely a story. It left too many questions.", he complained.

"I accidentally set the chicken on fire and ended up burning myself in the process. Satisfied?", I asked. In a lighter tone I said, "Thanks for the breakfast. And I never properly thanked you for saving my life."

"Well, I did try to kill you.", he said. He looked as if he wasn't expecting that.

"We tried to kill each other.", I said and left the lair.

* * *

**Erik's pov (The Phantom)**

Anastasia was a curious creature. I sat there and watched her quickly leave the lair. I didn't expect her to have a sense of humor or thank me. Nobles rarely had those traits, least of all the women. They usually seemed stuck up and arrogant, as if they owned the world.

I walked over towards my organ and closely inspected it. It was dust free and magnificent as the day I left. Hitting a few notes, I was surprised that they were crisp and on tune. I expected it to be at least off tune by a bit due to the years that it had been left unattended. I was furious that she had touched my precious instrument, yet it seemed as if it was untouched. Tuning it wasn't an easy task, so I decided to play a few scales to check the rest of the keys. Everything was on pitch. Curious.

I sat there and continued playing songs after songs, contemplating on what to make of this new discovery. The girl was definitely musically talented, since she was able to tune an organ. However, what was the extent of her talent? Enraptured in my music, the hours seemed to fly by.

"It sounds lovely. Where did you learn to play like that?", a voice said from behind me once I had finished my song. Turning around I saw that Anastasia was sitting on a chair, eating a small loaf of bread. She now wore a simple masquerade mask that covered much of her upper face. She lightly tapped her mask and said, "I think this will do for now. Now you don't have to steal my mask." She had on a friendly smile that was nearly contagious.

"To answer your question. I taught myself.", I replied.

"Not really an easy thing to learn on your own."

"Where did you learn how to tune an organ?", I asked.

"So you noticed?", she said. "Self taught."

"You messed with my organ, without knowing how to use it?!", I shouted.

"Whao, whao. Calm down. I had years of practice on the piano.", she smirked as if she was amused by my sudden rage. This only enraged me even more. "But quite clearly, they're two different instruments. So I decided to borrow and read your instruction books on the organ. It nearly bored me to death though. You have like an entire shelf dedicated to it." I realized now that I was towering over her, only a few centimeters away. Yet, she sat calmly, unmoving and unflinching with that smirk still across her face.

"Do NOT ever touch it, again!", I commanded while staring down angrily at her.

"It seems someone's a bit touchy about their organ.", she teased.

"You could have broken it. It's a delicate instrument."

"And so it is. Yet, it's not broken is it?", she asked. I remained angry at her. The smirk slowly faded from her face and a look of concern replaced it. "If it makes you feel any better. I barely played it. Didn't have time to learn how to play another instrument." She seemed to ignore my presence as she got up and left the chair, towards the kitchen. "I brought you some lunch." She came back with two dishes and she set them on the table. She came and went till the table was completely set. "So do you like wine or cider?" She had a bottle of expensive looking champagne in one hand and on the other she had a bottle of apple cider. Once again, I wasn't sure what to make of this turn of events. So I sat down on the chair opposite of her.

"I'll try the champagne.", I said. She smoothly uncorked the champagne as if she's done it many times before. Then she poured it into two cups.

"This comes from the House of Clicquot. A favorite among nobility currently.", she said as she stared at the bottle while taking a sip from her cup.

Now that I knew it wasn't poisoned, I took a light sip. Surprisingly, it was very good and I savored the taste for a while. She really didn't spare any expense on getting it. "It's very good.", I commented.

"I'm glad you like it. Right. I got two dishes because I wasn't sure which you prefer. The left is Fettuccine Alfredo and the right is Spaghetti and meatballs. And that there is just some bread as appetizers.", she said while pointing to each dish. "Well, help yourself."

"So who's the chef?", I asked, while helping myself to some of each dish.

"Jacques La Chapelle, relative of the famous Vincent La Chapelle. My father used to hire him for almost all of our balls and celebrations. He owns a restaurant quite close to here.", she replied. We ate in a calming silence, each enjoying the meal.

"Your family must be rich then.", I said.

"You could say that.", she said and finished her drink. "Rich in money, but nothing else anymore. It seems."

"What do you mean by that?", I asked.

"Nothing important, really.", she replied, shrugging off what she said before.

"You know champagne is mostly only drunk on special occasions.", I said.

"I know. But it tastes good.", she said. "Anyways, everyday should be special."

"Really?", I asked, surprised by her outlook on life.

"Well... based on life experience, you only truly know what you've got when it's gone. So, I guess it'll seem special one day.", she replied.

"Based on life experience, huh?", I asked after a while.

"Pretty much.", she replied. "Hmm… It seems like we're done." She stared down at the empty plates, except for the bread. "Well, I'll clean this up now."

"Thank you.", I said.

"Debt repaid.", she said with a smirk.

"Do you need some help?", I offered.

"No, I got it covered. Thanks though.", she said and walked into the kitchen with the plates.

**Read and Review!**


	13. Chapter 13: Auditions pt 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own** The Phantom of the Opera.**

**Author: **If you're a previous reader, I just wanted to give you a heads up that the Auditions chapters have been combined into 2 chapters, Part 1 and Part 2. So you don't have to reread this, unless you want to. Nothing has changed, except for fixes to spelling or grammar mistakes. I do this to upload chapters faster and fix spelling mistakes. I don't type the story on Fanfiction, I just copy and paste from my Google docs.

Enjoy!

**3rd Person Pov**

The rest of the week went by smoothly, without any other incidents. The Phantom and Anastasia were slowly warming up to each other, though neither would ever admit it. The Phantom often stayed down in his lair for he no longer cared much about the opera house without Christine. However, he was still determined to find that mysterious singer that still held onto a small portion of his mind. Anastasia on the other hand bustled about the opera house, keeping up to date with the latest information about the outside world, while making sure the management continued to work smoothly. Though truthfully she spent a large portion of her time gazing at the young man that had captured her attention and she made sure to monitor his younger sister's condition as well.

During one of his morning routine patrols around his opera house, the Phantom happened to pass by a group of young ballerinas.

"Oh, I can't believe auditions are today!", an energetic, worried girl said.

"Relax, you're going to do just fine.", her friend said.

"I know. I hope.. I really hope I get the part of Euridice.", she said. He heard another group of girls approaching the two.

"Oh ho.. you're so not going to get the part with all your nasty stut-t-t-er-ing.", a girl jeered. Other girls bursted out laughing. "Anyways, you're really only fit to work as a little seamstress, fixing up the costumes. Don't even know why they accepted you into the ballet troupe."

"I don't.. I don't stutter.", the first girl said in a tiny voice that sounded as if she was about to burst into tears.

"Hey, don't worry. You don't stutter. She's just teasing you.", her friend said.

"Meg, I don't know why you still hang out with that loser. You'd be better off with us.", the third girl said.

"Sorry Angelique, but I'd rather not.", Meg declined politely.

"Fine! Your loss.", the girl said. "Also, you shouldn't even waste your time auditioning. You'd only end up embarrassing yourself in front of the managers and the all the other people."

"See ya later, stuttering Josette!"

"Haha, who names their child, Josette. Bet her parents didn't know how to spell.", Angelique said as she walked off with the rest of her friends trailing behind her. Their footsteps echoed down the hall till it was nearly silent, except for the soft sobs of the young girl.

"Hey, don't cry.", Meg said, trying to comfort the girl.

"Maybe they're right. I really really shouldn't be auditioning.", Josette murmured.

"Ahh, you can't give up now. You've been practicing so much for the role and your voice is wonderful."

"What if I embarrass myself in front of the entire opera?"

"You won't. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up! The auditions in an hour.", Meg said.

"Alright.", Josette said as Meg gently pulled her along towards the dressing rooms. The Phantom silently admired Meg's ability at comforting her friends and staying loyal. He had seen her cheer up Christine countless times without fail. He was deeply annoyed by the new diva, who seemed to replace Carlotta's role in tormenting the other ballerinas and singers. It seemed like the opera house hierarchy had barely changed, except for the change of characters. Out of the entire conversation that he overheard, there only one piece of information that intrigued the Phantom. Auditions were in an hour.

* * *

_Auditions…_

If one was a keen observer, they would see a dark silhouette occupying box five. If one was even more observant, then they would spot another shadow looming and sometimes even pacing up on the deserted catwalk above the stage. However, people usually aren't very observant, especially if their eyes are already preoccupied with entertainments, such as operas or in this case the auditions.

"Angelique Bellerose please come to the stage.", M. Firmin ordered, while placing his paper down onto a table. A girl with dark curly hair strolled onto the stage with her chin held up high.

"What part are you going to try out for?", M. Armand asked.

"Euridice. Who else would I try out for?", she said in biting tone.

"Of course. Of course. My apologies mademoiselle, please continue on.", M. Armand quickly said. Then he signaled everyone to quiet down for her to sing. The auditions had just started so everyone was eager to listen. They immediately settled down. The Phantom watched from his box. He recalled that this was the girl, who was bullying the other ballerina. She currently held the position of prima donna, attitude and all. She was probably going to be another Carlotta, so he was ready to plug his ears. There was no need to get a headache this early in the morning.

Hidden in the shadows of the catwalk, Anastasia was also quietly watching the auditions. She only cared about Anthony's audition, but since she didn't really have anything better to do, she chose to stay. The girl below her, Angelique Bellerose, wasn't bad, but neither was she good. She had been off pitch on quite a few note and she failed to sing the higher notes without sounding strained. She really needed more practice, considering that she was auditioning for the main soprano part.

The rest of the female audition slowly went by. Irritation was eating away at Anastasia. So far, none of the female singers managed to surpass Angelique's mediocre voice. Some were slightly better, but not enough to have her replace Angelique. It seemed that having the managers to hold auditions that allowed anyone to tryout was a complete waste of time. Currently, there really wasn't any hidden talent at this opera house or if Paris. She had a feeling that most of Paris's talented singers were still avoiding this opera house, even though it's already been over two years since the incident. She rubbed her forehead in exasperation. She needed to find a soprano whose voice and appearance would complement Anthony's. His debut had to be perfect.

On the other end of the auditorium, the Phantom was also contemplating a similar issue. He hadn't found the mysterious singer yet. Unless it was a man, which he highly doubted, then this girl wasn't here. There was only one female audition left and it was the other girl he saw earlier, Josette.

Angelique stuck out her foot as Josette walked past her towards the center stage. To the audience, who had lost most of their attention and were now bored, it seemed as if Josetted tripped over air and stumbled to the stage. Both the Phantom and Anastasia saw what really happened. This infuriated both of them for different reasons. It reminded the Phantom of how badly Carlotta had treated Christine and for Anastasia it reminded her when her little sister had been bullied by her classmates.

"Are you alright mademoiselle?", M. Armand asked with a tired voice.

"I'm… I'm fine.", Josette said quietly. Her face had flushed bright red and her confidence was slowly deteriorating.

"Well, let's get on with it. We don't have all day now.", M. Armand said to her. "Well, what are you going to be singing?"

"Love Story.", she said quietly.

"What was that? Please do speak louder.", M. Firmin said gently since it was clear that she was desperately trying to hold back her tears.

"Love Story.", she repeated louder. By now the audience, especially the crew, were eager to leave for their lunch break. They had already started chattering among themselves, paying little to no attention to the girl. The girl started singing, but her voice was dulled by the increasing chatter.

"Please quiet down everyone.", M. Armand said. But it was no use. The cast and crew were barely paying attention.

Suddenly, a loud crack rang throughout the auditorium. Everyone froze. Silence took the room. "I believe we must pay our respects to this young lady, whose attempting to sing to a crowd of impertinent stage hands, dancers, singers… employees of this fine Opera House!", an elegant and authorative female voice commanded. The voice traveled and echoed loudly off the walls that it was nearly impossible to pinpoint its origin. In a warmer tone, the mysterious voice said, "Now mademoiselle Dubois, please continue singing from the start. I would love to hear the entire song uninterrupted. I believe you have a wonderful voice." This voice seemed to come from the crowd, so everyone glanced around searching for its owner, but they found none.

"You can do it, Josette! We believe in you!", Meg cried out encouragingly, when she saw the look of hesitation on her face.

"Thank you!", Josette said with more confidence and then she started singing.

From atop the catwalks, the Phantom listened to Josette's singing. She was decent, much better than Angelique and the crowd seemed to be enjoying her singing. However, this girl wasn't his mysterious singer. He had gone to the catwalks in order to cut one of the sandbags loose to silence the crowd, but the mysterious voice had beaten him to it. On the catwalks, he found a solitary dark figure looking down on the auditions.

"So that was you?", the Phantom asked the figure. He should've known it was Anastasia.

"Yes.", Anastasia replied. "What do you think about the girl?"

"Her voice is decent, far better than the rest. However, she needs to work on her confidence."

"I agree. What a shame...", she sighed. "I had hoped that by holding open auditions, the chorus girls would've trained harder."

"No wonder the auditions took forever."

"What a terrible waste of time.", she said. "It's seems that Paris is at an all time low for talented singers."

"Alright, the female auditions finally over. The male tenor auditions will be held shortly after lunch.", M. Firmin exclaimed.

"Were you watching from here the entire time?", the Phantom asked.

"Yes."

"Would you care to join me in my box? It's must be incredibly uncomfortable up here."

"It's not all that bad. I get a perfect view and it's much easier to interrupt the auditions without being notice."

"Box 5 has the splendid view. I think one interruption is enough for today. We don't want to scare all of Paris away." He extended his hand out to her. "The Phantom doesn't ask twice."

She smirked and lightly took hold of his hand. "Yes. We don't want to give our cast and crew a heart attack before the opera has even started. Come on, let's get some lunch first." With his hand in her hand, she quickly led him down into the tunnels towards the opera house's kitchen.

* * *

**Author:** So... what do you guys think about all this drama in the Opera House? And the introduction of some new side characters? Anastasia and the Phantom shall still be the center of attention though ;) because of their look... jk jk. Don't kill me Phantom!

**Read and Review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Auditions pt 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Phantom of the Opera.

**Author: **Thank you so much, **PhantomFan01**, I really do love your reviews. To answer your question, I'll just say soon, very soon he'll figure it out. The Phantom knows all and sees all that goes on in his Opera House. Sort of... it's a very big Opera house.

Enjoy!

**Erik's pov (The Phantom)**

Anastasia gently took my hand and lead me around the tunnels until we reach the hidden door of the opera house kitchen.

"Wait here.", she said. Without waiting for a response, she opened the door and left. I was alone. I stared down at my hand. Even though she had worn dark gloves, I could still feel the remnants of heat from her warm hand. The air around me felt a bit empty and cold without her now. After a few minutes, she returned with two giant sandwiches wrapped in thin brown paper. "It seems that these giant three layered sandwich is the chef's special. They also had soup to go with it, but that's not really a togo meal." She handed me the sandwiches.

"Shall we head to box 5 now?", I asked.

"Hold on. It's not a complete lunch without some drinks." She vanished into the kitchen again and returned shortly with a bottle and two glass chalices in her hands. "Now we're ready." Together, we walked towards box 5.

**-O-**

I watched her slowly eat her sandwich. I had finished mine relatively quickly. For the past few days, I noticed that Anastasia had remained in the lair more frequently when I was around, though she always had her nose stuck in a giant book on medicine and cures. She still wore her mask in the lair. I had a feeling that she only wore it down there because of me, since she used to forget to wear it. Her light brown eyes met mine and I noticed that I had been staring at her for a while, so I quickly turned away. But then I looked back when I realized that her eyes had changed colors. She tilted her head to the side as she was about to take a bite out the sandwich. It was sort of endearing to look at, even though she had those sinister vine tattoo and partially healed scars on her face.

"What'cha starin at?", she questioned.

"Your eyes, they change colors."

"They do?"

"They were light brown."

"Strange.", she said in a thoughtful way. "Hmm… you know I was just starting to like my glowing golden eyes."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't really like them before because it made me look more menacing and beastly. But then I saw your golden eyes and they were really beautiful. Though your is a different shade of gold. Sort of a unique golden amber color."

Her comment took me off guard that my only reply was, "Thanks." That was the first time anyone had ever used the word beautiful to describe me, but more importantly she sounded quite sincere, not sarcastic. She finished her sandwich, without noticing my startled behavior. People started to slowly file into the auditorium. The male auditions were beginning.

We watched in silence as the auditions unfolded. The males were much better than the female singers. There were two in particular that were good. The lead tenor, who had the looks of a rich, young aristocrat, and the boy that I had heard training with the mysterious girl. His voice sound much clearer and on pitch now, which meant that he had been training. So then who was this mysterious teacher of his, most likely that girl. During his audition, I had taken a quick glance at Anastasia and I notice that she had leaned forward slightly in her chair and she seemed enraptured in his voice. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this discovery. The boy was young and fairly handsome, she could've just been attracted to him since she seemed to be around his age. However, the alarms in my head were going off. Could Anastasia be his mysterious teacher? Yet, I hadn't ever heard her sing down in the lair before. She acted more like a book worm than a professional singer.

When the auditions were about to end, from the corner of my eyes I saw Anastasia silently get up and leave the box. After a few seconds, I got up and silently followed her. I made sure to keep a good distance from her to remain undetected. The tunnels were dark but I could still see a dark outline of her. It seemed as if she was walking towards the manager's office and I could hear the tapping sounds of both the managers' shoes hitting the ground. Focusing in on them, I could here them talking in a low whisper. Suddenly, Anastasia started to sprint through the tunnels. I chased after her. I could no longer see her, but I knew where she was headed.

I got to the secret entrance to the manager office just as Anastasia was coming back into the tunnels and closing the door. "What are you doing here?", she asked in a low voice. Her glowing eyes did make her look more menacing, especially in the dark.

"This is my opera house." I glanced through the double sided mirror into the office. On the desk was a letter sealed with my red skull. "What's that?", I asked out loud. She immediately place a finger on my lip and hushed me. This suddenly made me realize how close we were at this moment. The tunnel here was very tight that she was barely a few inches away from me.

"Just some suggestions for the managers.", she answered in a barely audible voice. I heard the outside door squeak open and close.

"We really got to have that door replaced Firmin.", M. Armand said. "Firmin?"

"Oh lord, not another one…", M. Firmin cried out.

"What is it?", M. Armand asked. Firmin showed him the skull sealed letter. "This must be a trick we haven't received one in months and we've been paying his salary."

"Well, I found one last week.", M. Firmin said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't bad. I didn't want to worry you. All it said was to have open auditions."

"No wonder. You had us do all those auditions. I nearly thought you were crazy. Well then this one might not be all that bad."

"It just after the auditions though. Perhaps…"

"No. Not this all over this. We can't have another fire. We have to tread lightly this time.", M. Armand broke in.

"Well, then read it."

"No you read it."

"Alright, alright. Let's just get this over with." Firm broke the red skull seal and held up the letter so that they could both read it. Then he proceeded to read it out loud.

_"My dear managers,_

_It has come to my attention that the current lead male tenor, Pierre D'Aramitz, has slacked off on his performance in the previous operas and rehearsals, arriving both late and drunk sometimes. Therefore a new lead tenor is required. The male lead role of Orpheus shall go to Anthony Moreau. Although he has been a stage hand at this opera house, he has demonstrated that he has both the appearance and voice to play the role of Orpheus. It would be wise to heed my command, lest you be troubled by the disastrous repercussions of the wrong decision._

_Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,_

_O.G."_

"Well, that's not so bad.", M. Armand said.

"Thank God, this is the male lead that he's requesting.", M. Firmin said.

"It does make sense. That boy did a fine job auditioning."

"Yes. He did a surprisingly good job, considering he has both his job and his sister to take care of."

"Well, then it's settled. The male lead will go to Anthony Moreau."

"Pierre's family certainly won't be happy about it though. They've been helping us get more patrons."

"We don't want to repeat the past though. Perhaps we should just give him what he wants, considering he did provide us with enough money to pay off our debts."

"Yes. He did… Funny, how we're just debating on who should get that part.", M. Firmin said thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should retire for the day. Don't feel like staying in the Opera House." They quickly grabbed their coats and left their office.

"That's what you consider a _suggestion_?", I asked Anastasia.

"Phantom style.", she quickly responded with a smirk.

"And what exactly do you plan to do with this Anthony Moreau?", I asked.

"I believe that M. Firmin has just read it to you.", she answered sarcastically. "They really do have tendency of reading those letters dramatically out loud."

"Is that really all you had in mind?", I questioned.

"What else would I have in mind?", she asked innocently. I wasn't sure what to make of it. She would've made a decent actor if it wasn't for her appearance. I chose to keep my suspicions silent. It would be much easier to follow her if she didn't know. She was already fairly good at remaining hidden.

* * *

**Author:** Sweet, this chapter is done. Which means that the chapters titled Breakfast and Lunch shall be combined.

Also I think I'm going to make the chapters called Auditions be a two part chapter because it'd be a really long chapter. So this chapter that you've finished reading will be Auditions part 2 and the two previous ones will be part 1. It'll be changed when the next chapter is done. Hopefully, that wasn't so complicated.

**Read and Review! :D**


	15. Chapter 15: Guests

**Disclaimer: **As usual, I don't own _The Phantom of the Opera_.

**Author: **Hehe... I've been neglecting my schoolwork by writing this Fanfic for you guys. :D Well, I've actually been neglecting sleep more than school.

But anyways... I believe you guys shall enjoy this chapter with the surprise guest and all :)

**3rd Person pov**

For the past few days, the Phantom had been trailing Anastasia around the opera house. He made sure to keep a safe distance from her, but occasionally they would crash into each other in the tunnels. So far, the Phantom had learned that she spent a lot of her time down in the stables grooming a white stallion and that there was a locked room on the upper levels that he'd occasionally see her leaving from with a book in her hands. There weren't any secret passageways or mirror in that room and the lock on it had been changed so that his skull key no longer worked on it. The Phantom decided not to pick the lock just yet, since that room used to be a small quiet empty room with a nice window view. He assumed that she just went there to relax and read. He hadn't seen her anywhere near the boy, Anthony. However, she did seem to hang around the room that used to be Christine's. A pale, blond haired young girl, around the age of 7, now occupied that room. How she got that room, he had no idea. But he assumed that that Christine's room would've been abandoned after the incident.

**-O-**

Anastasia had been casually wandering around the opera house with barely anything to do. The auditions were over now and Anthony had been given the part of Orpheus, just as she had ordered. The part of Euridice went to Angelique Bellerose. Although she disliked her attitude, she saw no other reasons to replace her since she hadn't found anyone else capable of playing the lead female role during the auditions. Josette currently didn't have the confidence to play the lead role, so she was given the part of Persephone, the queen of the underworld. It wasn't a bad part to play. It just wasn't the main part. Perhaps she'll gain a little confidence with that part.

Since she didn't have much to do, Anastasia decided to descend back down to the lair. While walking, her mind wandered towards the conversion that she and the Phantom had talked about right after the auditions. It bugged her that they had bumped into each other more frequently. She was getting the feeling that he was following her, but she didn't feel like calling it out and making herself seem more suspicious. She wasn't sure why she was hiding the fact that she had feelings for Anthony or that she had been the one to train him. Perhaps she just didn't want to get the Phantom involved in her affairs.

When she arrive at the side entrance of the lair she was greeted by a strange fuzzy feeling of something rubbing against her feet.

"Meow." Looking down, Anastasia spotted a beautiful white furred cat with a greyish black face.

"Well, what do we have here?", she said. She kneeled down to take a closer look at the cat. She let it sniff her hand and then she proceeded to pet it. She carefully picked it up. "What's your name handsome?", she asked it. The cat growled and attempted to claw at her. "Oh, so you're a lady. My sincerest apologies…" The cat calmed down and resumed letting Anastasia pet her. "How did you manage to get down here? You know the Phantom doesn't know how to handle guests properly." Anastasia was busy stroking the cat that she didn't notice the man that was currently sitting down at the table.

"Greetings mademoiselle!", the man said. Anastasia immediately looked up. The man had dark tanned skin and a grey and black beard. He looked vaguely familiar. She stared at him for a few seconds trying to remember where she had seen him before.

"Surprise, surprise. It seems we have another guest.", she said in amusement. "It is most intriguing to meet you here, Monsieur Khan."

"How do you know his name?", the Phantom asked as he walked out from the kitchen with a steaming teapot in his hands.

"By means of magic.", she said mystically.

"Then how do you not know my name?", the Phantom asked sarcastically.

"I never said I didn't know your name. You just wanted me to call you the Phantom.", she replied.

"What's my name?"

"Erik."

"Last name?"

"My abilities don't go that far.", she answered.

"Haha. This is most amusing, Erik.", M. Khan said. "Oh and you may call me Nadir. Now, how is it you know my name? Truly?"

"Magic, an educated guess, or simply we've met before."

"I swear I would've remembered you if I had met you."

"Well, appearances can be very, very deceiving."

"You're mask is blocking half your face.", Nadir said. The girl looked up thoughtfully.

"Taking it off would only deceive your eyes even more, monsieur." The Phantom watched this conversation unfold with the utmost curiosity.

"But as a detective, they say that your eyes and nose will always remain the same. Therefore, I should still be able to recognize you."

"Hmm…", she said as she gently set the cat down on the ground. It immediately ran towards the Phantom. Anastasia looked towards the Phantom in bewilderment. She had assumed that the cat belonged to Nadir. She sighed and internally debated whether she should take off her mask. She was itching to know whether someone who had seen her before she turned into the beast would still recognize her. Slowly, her hands glided up towards her mask. Both the Phantom and Nadir were staring intently on her. Then she removed it. Nadir jerked up a little in surprise and his eyebrows shot up. But other than that he didn't say anything.

"And so, do you recognize me?", she asked about to replace her mask on.

"Wait.", Nadir said. "Do you mind jogging my memory a bit? I believe I'm getting old."

"I believe we've met twice. Both on different occasions and quite brief.", she said.

"That really doesn't narrow it down.", he complained.

"You should be more specific. Nadir is getting very old and all this thinking will surely wear him out.", the Phantom said.

"Haha.. you should really be kinder to our guest, _Phantom._", she scolded playfully. "Alright, on one of the occasions you nearly ruined my disguise and on the other you were visiting my house."

"You may call me Erik. Since you already know my name.", the Phantom said. Nadir continued to think thoughtfully. He still couldn't recalled who she was.

"Well, it seems you don't remember.", Anastasia said a bit dejectedly. "You may call me Anastasia."

"Anastasia… I don't remember anyone by that name. You didn't tell me your first name then?", Nadir said.

"No. It was always mademoiselle or even monsieur... something.", she replied.

"That's quite a lot of hint Nadir. Your memory is failing you.", Erik teased. He was eager to know what her last name was as well and perhaps even learn how they had met before. Both Nadir and Anastasia were thinking hard. One trying to recall her name and the other trying to think of hints. The cat jumped from Erik's lap, walked toward Anastasia and then pawed her leg, trying to get her attention. It was Erik's turn to looked surprise. His cat usually hated other people.

"Hello lady.", she said while picking up the cat and setting her in her lap. "So what's your name?"

"Take a guess.", Erik scoffed. Anastasia rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I believe I will.", she answered. She stared into the cats eyes for a while, wondering what her name could be. "Hmm… she looks kinda like an… Ayesha." Both Erik's and Nadir's jaws dropped in awe. She looked up and stared at them. "What?... I'm right aren't I?" Erik broke out of his stupefied state first and resumed his calm composure.

"Don't tell me, you've met before haven't you?", he mocked.

"Yes. We have. I believe we met just a few minutes ago and got really well acquainted.", she replied in the same tone.

"That's not possible. I don't believe her names on her collar.", Nadir exclaimed. She looked down at the cat's splendid collar.

"That's one's expensive collar. It looks as if it was made for a queen.", she said.

"It is.", Nadir said.

"Oh.", she replied. "You must tell me the story sometime."

"Another time.", Erik stated. "First, we have to figure out your last name first."

"Curious, aren't you?", she asked playfully. She was still trying to think of hints and when she thought of one her eyes lit up. Setting Ayesha down on the ground, she rushed off towards the kitchen. Erik and Nadir stared at each other in surprise.

"Any ideas where she's going?", Nadir asked lightly.

"Not a clue. She has a tendency of disappearing without a word.", Erik replied solemnly. Anastasia quickly returned with a bottle.

"Well, since I never expected any guest to arrived down here without being strangled or maimed, I believe we should celebrate this moment with a bottle of well chilled champagne.", Anastasia said to Nadir, while hand gesturing the bottle of champagne as if she was advertising it. Nadir's eyes immediately lit up when he saw the expensive bottle.

"I should strangle you right now.", Erik said, obviously offended.

"Ah. You wouldn't dare.", she taunted and then left to grab some cups.

"Champagne. You're from Champagne, France then?", Nadir said.

"Ah, ha.", she said while nodding and uncorking the bottle. Once she poured some for each of them, she joined them at the table. "Hmm.. you still have no clue, do you? Well perhaps you'll remember later. Now I'm curious to know how you two met."

"Well, we first met in Russia, when I was sent by the Shah-in-Shahs to find a mysterious masked magician who was the center of much attention at that time.", Nadir said.

"He convinced me to pack up and set for Persia to the sultan's court.", Erik broke in. "Then I worked for the sultan for quite a few years and chose to return to this opera house."

"I have the feeling you really shortened that story.", Anastasia whined, while eyeing Erik suspiciously. "So you've been to both Persia and Russia? What was it like there?"

They talked for a while. Erik rarely gave specific details of his trips or jobs around the world, but he gave in to Anastasia's myriad of questions. She was wide eyed, like an eager child, listening to the countless stories of his travels. Nadir was also listening intently. It amused him that Erik and Anastasia seemed to get along really well together. It also surprised him how much Erik had tolerated her teasing him countless times. He had only met one woman in Champagne, France that fit her hints. But it didn't seem possible.

"I think I've figured out who you are.", he stated, interrupting Erik and Anastasia's conversation.

"Yes?", Anastasia asked curiously with a small smile.

"The description and hints you gave me reminds me of two people. One a handsome young man I had met at a convention on medicine and two a very wealthy noble.", he said.

"Oh and do you remember their names?", she probed with her smile increasing.

"I must say, I believe I was partially drunk when I met the young men. His name started with an 'A' I think. Alex.. Alexandre." She nodded.

"Go on. And what of this young noble?"

"It can't be.", he said in disbelief. "It's not possible."

"Well, just spit it out already.", Erik said impatiently.

"Fine. This young man, Alexandre, had a very fair skin and he also had a higher pitched voice. So he reminded me of this young aristocratic lady, whose father I had met months earlier. As I said the eyes and the nose doesn't change when you're in a disguise. I had met her very briefly and she was introduced to me as mademoiselle Delacroix."

"Bravo!", she exclaimed."It seems, you truly are a good detective."

"I'm correct?", he asked in amazement. "How… how is that possible?"

"It seems I have fallen far from grace.", she answered.

"Then you're the daughter of the marquis of Champagne.", he asked.

"Yes.", she answered with a nod.

"What happened? How, what happened to you? Where did you get the cuts, burns, and tattoos?", he stammered.

"I'd rather not talk about that.", she said while looking down in shame now.

"I take it she used to look much different than now?", Erik questioned.

"That would be putting it very lightly. I would doubt her story, but I remember a few years ago, the front pages of many newspapers stated the mysterious and tragic disappearance of the famous marquis's daughter during a ball, I believe. It held much attention and investigation for months unend.", Nadir said. Silence took the room. Both Erik and Nadir were contemplating this discovery, while Anastasia was silently reliving her escape in her mind.

"Right.", she said, breaking the silence. "Congratulations at figuring out my identity. It's getting late, so I believe I shall retire to my room. I hope we meet again, Nadir. I'm eager to hear more of your stories." With that, she quickly took to her room, leaving Erik and Nadir alone.

"She's right. Look at the time.", Nadir said, while staring at his pocket watch. "I'll be going as well. Don't want to overstay your welcome." He got up, grabbed his hat, and started to leave.

"I'll escort you out.", Erik said and Nadir eyed him suspiciously. They walked in silence till they reached the exit. "Do you happen to have a copy of the newspaper?"

"I believe I do, actually.", Nadir said. "Why'd you wait till we got here to ask?"

"It seems that she had superb hearing abilities."

"Oh.", Nadir said as he departed into the cold streets of Paris.

**Author:** I've been just itching to write this chapter because I really like Nadir and Ayesha the cat. They bring more fun and lightheartedness into the story.

So how'd I do? Did you guys like it? **Read and Review** or comment please!


	16. Chapter 16: Fairy Tales

**Disclaimer: **I don't own **The Phantom of the Opera**.

**Author:** Just a little heads up, I've just started another POTO fanfic called** The Lost Rose**. So if you like my writing, please go check it out!

Also, I've combined Chapter 16 and 17 together.

**Enjoy!**

**3rd Person Pov**

Erik was having a sleepless night. He tossed and turned in his coffin. He couldn't stop himself from wondering about Anastasia's past and her appearance. Nadir's shocked expressions only made him wish to see what she had looked like before even more. He tried to picture what she would look like without all her scars and tattoos. But it was to no avail.

Since he wasn't getting any rest, he decided to get up and do something productive. Perhaps he should get a book to read. Erik got up from his coffin and left his room. He headed towards the library. He searched the shelves for any interesting books. He had read all of his books and he really didn't feel like rereading any of them. Walking over to the desk, he checked out Anastasia's books. Some of them were his but a few of them he didn't recognize. He grabbed the thinnest leather bound book and flipped through it. The front page read "Children's Fairy Tales." He continued flipping through it until he hit a bookmark. The chapter was called Beauty and the Beast. He brought the book back to his room and started to read it.

* * *

**_ The book..._**

**_Beauty and the Beast_**

_Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a wealthy young prince. On a cold winter's night, an old woman wandered to the prince's castle and asked if she could stay there for the night. The prince responded by asking what he'd get in return for allowing her to stay. She held up a single beautiful rose to him and said that it was all she had. He laughed in her face and shooed her away, saying that he didn't need it. She begged him to reconsider for it was freezing outside. But the young prince's heart was cold and so he ordered his guards to remove the woman from his sight._

_At once the night sky darkened with dark storm clouds blocking the stars and the moon. Lightning cracked through the sky. The old woman transformed into a beautiful young enchantress before the prince's eyes. She casted a spell over the entire castle, transforming everything within it. The servants became animals. The wall and statues became old and monstrous. But the prince became a fearsome beast with long fangs and dark fur for it reflected his soul._

_The Prince begged the enchantress to reverse her spell. But she refused and stated that only when he had learned his lesson will he become a man once again. However, the spell would become permanent when the rose he had tossed away dies. Then she disappeared into the darkness, leaving only that single magical rose._

_Years past and the castle remain desolate. Traveler avoided that place for they had heard that a strange beast roamed the erie dark woods. On a cold winter's day, a blizzard brought an old merchant to seek shelter at the castle. His horse had been scared off by the wolves that now roam the forest freely. The beastly prince stay in the shadows as the merchant entered his halls. He sent his servants to attend to the man's needs._

_In the morning, he had horses prepared for the man, so that he could be on his way. Seeing the beautiful red rose bush, the merchant plucked a single perfect rose from it. The beast flew down at the man with his sword._

_"I have provided you with food and shelter and yet this is the payment that is given. You take and kill something that is not yours!"_

_The beast dragged the paralyzed man down to his dungeons and tossed him into a cell._

_In a nearby town, there live a young woman called Beauty. She was the youngest daughter of the merchant. When she saw that her father's horse had returned without him, she set out to find him. The horse brought her to the dark castle. Upon entering the castle, the servant who had become a dog led her down to the dungeons where her father was held._

_She was confronted by the anger beast, who refused to let her father go unless she took his place. She accepted and her father was immediately released and set away._

* * *

_**Present...**_

Erik flipped through the rest of the pages. Anastasia's tale was similar to this. She had been transformed into a terrifying and ugly beast. Was this why she had this story bookmarked? She had told him that magic had turned her into a beast. If she had been put under the same spell as the beast, then what had she done to deserve it? And how was she supposed to break the spell? Was it the same as the beast? To show compassion and love? The beast from the story had his spell broken when Beauty announced her love to him as he was dying.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shouting and muttering from the next room. Erik immediately left his room. He pressed his ear against Anastasia's door and heard some muttering noises from inside. He banged his fists on the locked door, but she didn't answer. Finally, he picked the lock and entered the room. Anastasia was asleep, but she was fidgeting from side to side with sweat rolling down her forehead. Erik tried to tap her shoulder. She immediately winced with a pained expression.

"Please, please don't hurt me.", she whimpered. Her hand shot up and grabbed her shoulder as if she was in pain. "Please father, don't let him hurt me."

"Shhhhh, nothing's gonna harm you.", Erik whispered calmly at her. Her grip on her shoulder loosened. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Since his voice seemed to be calming her down, he pulled up the dresser stool and started to talk softly to her until they both fell asleep.

**-O-**

Anastasia woke with a heavy weight on her chest. Since she was still drowsy, she turned to the side and covered her head with a pillow. "Meow!" The cat flopped into the soft sheets and then started to paw at Anastasia's pillow. Slightly startled, Anastasia removed the pillow from her face and stared up into the cat's glimmering eyes.

"Woah, what are you doing here? How'd you get in 'ere?", she asked the cat.

"Meow." The room was still dark without any lights on and there's weren't any lights lit outside. Anastasia grudgingly sat up to check the time. 8:00 am. She would've expected the lights to be on outside by now. She blinked a couple time, stretched her arms out, and then attempted to push her blankets off of her. She became confused when her attempts failed, something was preventing the blankets from lifting.

"Bloody Mary! What the hell are you doing here?!", she shouted when she saw a dark figure sitting in a chair with its head face down on the side of her bed. The figure immediately started to get up.

"Ugh, why are you shouting?", he grumbled.

"Why?! Are you serious?", she asked. Erik stared blankly into the darkness, trying to figure out where he was. Light suddenly filled the room and a furious looking girl in her night clothes was staring straight down at him. "Now care to explain why you're in my room?"

"I… uh…", the Phantom stuttered. He never stuttered before.

"I don't speak gibberish." Erik tried to think back to the night, but he was having some trouble, since he was being interrogated by an angry girl that was barely dressed. Anastasia looked down at her revealing and partially see through night clothes and then to the shirtless Phantom. Her face immediately turned bright pink. "I… think… We'll talk later… yea." She ushered the stunned Phantom to the door and then she placed the cat in his arms. Finally, she slammed the door none too gently.

"Note to self: get better nightwear and a better lock.", Anastasia whispered to herself as she slumped down against the door and then started to rub her forehead. Other the other side of the door, the Phantom was in a similar state. He could barely comprehend what just happened, so he slumped down on the closest chair with Ayesha still in his arms.

* * *

**Anastasia's Pov**

This was not how I expected my day to start out. I sat dumbly on the ground for at least a good half hour. I was furious that the Phantom, Erik, was in my room. I couldn't think of any good reasons why he was there. There was also that growing irritating, stubborn, burning feeling inside me that I attempted to restrain. I really, really shouldn't be having these unholy feelings and thoughts that were currently invading my mind. I needed a nice cup of warm tea. The only problem was that he was probably still out there. I settled for an ice cold bath.

I repeatedly splashed the cold water into my face, trying to forget the morning's events. But my traitorous mind kept on going back to the image of the shirtless Phantom with his ruffled and unkempt black hair. It wasn't that I had never seen shirtless men before. I had seen many. But then how was this different? I never paid attention to any of the others, so why was I getting this strange unwanted feeling then? Perhaps it's because he's extremely well toned, my traitorous mind told me. The bath wasn't helpful at all, so I immediately got up and dried myself. I desperately needed fresh air. Perhaps seeing Anthony would help relinquish me of my attraction towards the Phantom. Attraction? No, no, no! I couldn't be attracted to him. It'd ruin everything. I was already in love with Anthony, right? I had to be.

* * *

**3rd Person Pov**

Anastasia quickly left her room and immediately walked in the direction of the nearest exit. "I can explain", Erik said to her. She paused in mid stride without turning towards him.

"Not now. Tell me later.", she said with an extremely leveled voice. She continued on walking, but at an even faster pace. The confused and irritated Phantom quickly chased after her. He couldn't believe that she wouldn't even hear him out. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her and pushed her against the stone wall as gently as possible, so that she'd have no where to run. "What in heaven's name are you doing?!", she cried out when she hit the cold wall.

"You have to hear me out. I can explain.", the Phantom panted. Anastasia seemed to be glancing everywhere except his eyes, which annoyed him to no end.

"Save your breath. I gotta go." She tried to push her way out of the Phantom's grasp. He increased his grip, closing in on their distance so that she would be forced to look him in the eye. When Anastasia tilted her head up in defiance, her heart started to beat even faster. Their lips were less than a centimeter apart from each other. She had a strong urge to close their distance. It took every ounce of her strength not to. She could feel her face burning though, so she looked downward to the floor again.

With one of his hands, the Phantom gently tilted Anastasia's face back up so that she was staring into his eyes. Staring into her eyes, he noticed that they were now a light golden brown color. He had expected to see her furious blood red iris staring up at him for the way he had just treated her. Instead she looked somewhat embarrassed with her light blush adding to it. He could kiss her now if he wanted to a voice whispered in his mind. He struggled against that feeling, he shouldn't be taking advantage of her position. He tried to talk, but nothing came out.

Anastasia was fighting a losing battle against her feelings. The Phantom was staring intently into her eye, but he wasn't saying anything. Instead his hand kept her head tilted up and he was still extremely close to her, enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"I'm sorr…", Erik said, but was cut off by Anastasia's lips pressed against his. Her body was also pressing against his now. His heart was racing and pounding within him. He stood still, paralyzed, unable to move. It felt like forever.

She couldn't believe what she had just done. She had given into her feeling, so that now there weren't any distance between them. When she realized it, she immediately backed away into the wall. He still stood only a centimeter away from her and once again she had that wicked traitorous urge to kiss him again. If she didn't do something fast, she was bound to repeat the mistake. So she push him away into the ground and ran away as fast as her legs could carry her.

It ended as fast as it came and now he was somehow on the ground. He was still partially paralyzed. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He sat up a bit and watched the girl flee away into the darkness. He touched his finger lightly to his numb lips, slightly questioning his sanity.


	17. Chapter 17: Twice in One Day

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own The Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** Wow, I'm writing pretty fast! I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Also thanks for all kind reviews, I really appreciate it. I can't believe I almost got 50, just need 1 more review :D

Enjoy!

**3rd Person Pov**

Once he could think clearly again, Erik got up from the cold ground and chased after Anastasia. He started by checking all the closest rooms he'd expect her to be in. But she was no where to be seen. He wandered aimlessly around the opera house. He checked out the stables. Still no sign, not a single clue of her whereabouts were to be seen. Finally, after pacing back and forth, he remembered. There was that one room where he'd seen her leaving from when he was trailing her. Immediately, he set off to find her once more.

Anastasia frantically ran through the dark tunnels, not caring where she was headed. Her blood pounded with adrenaline and she was breathing heavily. When she finally came to a halt, she was at the hidden entrance of box 5. She decided to rest in it for a while to catch her breath.

Elsewhere in the opera house, Erik was carefully picking a lock. The bronze locked looked elegant and simple, but all his attempts so far had failed. So now, he was delicately moving his thinnest lock picks around the keyhole. One wrong moved and the picks might snap. Thankfully, this hall was always deserted and unused, or else he would've already been seen. Finally, he heard that wonderful tiny clicking noise, so he gently pushed open the door.

Light streamed in from a high up window, directly hitting a single beautiful rose in a glass vase near the center of the room. The dusty old room had transformed into a comfy sitting room with a few piles of books, a small desk, and an antique looking violin. A golden sparkle from the red rose caught the Phantom's attention, so he approached it. It was strange to have a decorative rose, sitting in the center of a room as small as this. The rose was past its prime though and it had already lost many of its pedals. For some strange reason, the fallen petals remained red and fresh as if they'd only just fallen. Since Anastasia wasn't in the room, the Phantom left it, but he couldn't help but wonder about the strange properties of the rose.

As the Phantom was leaving the secluded hallway and back into the hidden passageways of the opera house, he spotted a blond man walking through the intersecting halls. Since this floor was usually unused during the morning, the Phantom followed the young man. He remembered him, he was the stagehand, who had been given the lead role of Orpheus because of Anastasia's letter.

The boy glanced from side to side as he unlocked a door. The Phantom took another route into the room. He watched as the boy closed the door and then approached a window, so that now his back was to the door. He was nervously fidgeting, and he continually took out his pocket watch, flipped it open, checked it out, and then replaced it. The Phantom was getting extremely bored watching the boy stand there. He was about to leave when he heard the door click open and closed again.

"You're late.", the boy stated. A light laugh echoed through the room.

"That's one way to greet someone.", a girl's voice teased. The Phantom couldn't believe his ears. He recognized the voice. It belonged to Anastasia. His eyes only confirmed what he heard.

"I'm sorry.", the boy said.

"I just messing with you, Anthony.", Anastasia said. "I apologize for my tardiness, but I had some other business that required attention."

"Oh."

"You can turn around now."

"No more blindfolds?", he asked excitedly as he turned around.

"I forgot it. But I don't really think we need it anymore.", Anastasia said.

"You're wearing a full mask.", he said, disappointed.

"Can't have you be distracted by my appearance, can I now?", she joked.

"So you must be really beautiful then?", he asked. She let out a dry, partially sarcastic laugh.

"I'll let you be the judge, when you see me.", she said. The boy walked towards her and looked at her closely.

"Your eyes are a unique golden color.", he said while observing her mask. "I bet you're really beautiful." Underneath her mask, Anastasia was blushing furiously. But she retained her cool.

"Thank you, but enough of this.", she said while tapping a blue folder at the boy. "Flattery will get you everywhere, but it won't get you out of your lessons." She sat down on the piano bench and waited for the boy to get ready. "Let's start at the top and go through all the songs in act one."

The Phantom listened in on their singing. The mysterious singer was Anastasia. He shouldn't have doubted himself before. How had he been so blind? She had the most alluring, angelic voice whenever she'd sing a duet with the boy, Anthony. The boy's voice still didn't do hers any justice. Erik watch the boy gazing over at Anastasia every time she wasn't watching him. A fire started to burn within him. Whenever they'd finish a song, Anastasia would correct all of the boy's mistakes and then have them go over the lines and notes that he failed. Every time Anastasia touched Anthony, trying to demonstrate how to breath properly during the lines, the flames within the Phantom would increase. By the end of the lesson, he wanted to stroll into the room with his Punjab lasso and out right strangle the boy or even drag him down to the lair and toss him into his mirror trap.

"I think that's enough training for the day.", Anastasia stated.

"When will I see you again?", Anthony asked.

"I'll send you a note, don't worry."

"Alright." Anthony was about to walk out the door when he turned around.

"Something troubling you? You seemed quite distracted during the rehearsal.", Anastasia asked with concern. The boy nervously ruffled his hair and walked towards Anastasia.

"Yes.", he said. Anastasia waited for him to continue.

When she waited long enough she asked, "Your sister?"

"Yeah… she doesn't seem to be getting better. Even with the light medication that the doctor prescribed.", he said.

"What'd he give her?", she asked.

"He said it was something for the common flu."

"You think it's not that than?", she asked.

"Yes. The medicine has no effect on her. It just makes her more and more drowsy."

"It seems you need a more qualified doctor.", she said thoughtfully.

"I don't have the money for one though.", he said dejectedly.

"Don't worry about it. Just focus on your music and the opera.", she said.

"Really?", he asked.

"Really.", she said. The boy's face brightened up and then embraced her in a excited tight hug. She stood still for a moment and then returned the unexpected hug.

"Thank you! Thank you soo much! I swear I'll repay you.", he promised as he released her from the hug.

"Don't worry about it.", she said, brushing off his promise.

"I.. I still don't know your name.", he said.

"Anastasia, you can call me Anastasia.", she said.

"Anastasia, a lovely name.", he complimented. "Until we meet again then, Anastasia." He reached out for her hand and kissed it. Then he left the room.

"Farewell.", she whispered as she let out the breathe she had been holding. After standing in the same spot for a few minutes, she gently locked the door and walked towards the grand piano. She played random melodies after melodies, sometimes creating her own.

After a few, the Phantom left his hiding spot and walked towards the her. If she knew he was there, she showed no signs. He recognized the song that she was currently playing, so he sat down on the bench next to her and then started to sing.

"_Turn around…_", he sang. Anastasia tilted her head to the sided, giving him a single amused glance. He repeated the rift on another scale, forcing her to repeat it. She was internally debating whether she should sing the love song.

"_Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming round._", she sang.

"_Turn around…_"

"_Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears..._" Anastasia was quite impressed with the Phantom's voice, but she didn't let him know as she continued singing for a while.

"_Once upon a time there was light in my life_

_But now there's only love in the dark_

_Nothing I can say_

_A total eclipse of the heart…_", they sang. Once the song ended, the room was in complete silence, except for the sound of their breathing. Erik was once again impressed by her voice, even after singing with Anthony, she still didn't miss a beat.

"So what are you doing here?", the Phantom questioned.

"How long have you been here?", Anastasia asked, dreading the answer.

"The entire time.", he stated. Anastasia got up from the bench and walked towards the window, wondering whether he had meant before of after Anthony had gone.

"What do you plan to do with the boy?", he demanded.

"Train him.", she replied evenly.

"Is that all?", he inquired.

"It's none of your business.", she replied coldly.

"So then it's not all.", he stated. "Whatever you're planning, it's going to fail!" She turned around and faced him with anger in her eyes.

"Stay out of my affairs!", she warned.

"The moment the boy sees you, he'll be running.", he said. "I know what you're trying to do. I've already lived it."

"Yeah, well it won't end in flames this time around!", she snapped back.

"Because I won't let it!", he threatened.

"What are you going to do about it?", she taunted.

"What won't I do about it?! I'm the Phantom of the Opera and this is my Opera House!" Anastasia's irises turned into a dark shade of red as she stared furiously at the Phantom. She held her fist so tight that a drop of blood had begun to drip down her leather gloves.

"I'm warning you. If you harm Anthony in any way, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life.", she growled.

"Oh really?!", he sneered. "And why exactly are you so bent on making him fall in love with you?" She turned away from in and released her anger into the wall by slamming her fist into it.

"You wouldn't understand… my life depends on it…", she muttered as she stared angrily at her torn glove. Her sharp claws had tore through the fingertips.

"Your life?", he asked sarcastically with pained filled eyes. Anastasia was breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. "What about the kiss then?"

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean it.", she apologized, clearly not understanding what he was asking. The pain in his eyes only increased, yet Anastasia was completely oblivious to it.

"Then why'd you do it?", he demanded.

"I… I don't.. I couldn't control myself. It was just in the moment…", she stammered. "Look, I said I was sorry. Alright." She took in a deep breath. "In less than six months time, I'll be out of your way. You'll never have to deal with me after that. Please just stay out of my affairs until then!", she begged. He walked towards her, infringing on her private space. In one swift movement before she could retreat, he removed her mask and pressed his lips lightly to hers while caressing her face in his hands. She stared at him in complete shock, unsure what to make of it, but not backing out either. Her mind had gone haywire. After a few seconds, the Phantom broke away.

"We're even now.", he breathed.

"Right…", she said dumbly. She absentmindedly grabbed her mask from his hand, replaced it back on her face, and then walked out the door in silence.

**Author:** The lyrics that I borrowed is from the song _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ by Bonnie Tyler. I don't really use entire songs because I find it boring to read without the music.

Also, I know I keep on referring to Anthony as a boy, but really he is probably around 18 years old or so. Also, I think Anastasia is still in like her early to mid twenties and the Phantom is less than 30, around Anastasia's age I guess. Yes, I did make him a lot younger compared to Leroux's book :D

**Read and Review!**


	18. Chapter 18: Confession

**Disclaimer: **As always, I don't own **The Phantom of the Opera**.

**New Author's Note: **I've combined both the of Chapter's titled** Confession** and I kept all my previous notes.

**Author: **Wow, didn't actually expect so many reviews against dropping the story. I kinda thought that you guys would've ditch it by now 'cause of the long wait. But no, you guys actually reviewed against it. So well you guys have **EvaAuthor**, **DeadAndLovely**, **RedDeathLvr**, **arissaprincess321**, **AcrobaticB**, **Erik's guest**, **Guest**, **Beauty beneath**, **Aria**, **Rose Thourn**, **Fireballmaddie**, **PaigePhan24601**(That # seems familiar. Ah ha, it's from Les Mis :D), **Phantasma'sRose**, **Maria**, and another **Guest** to thank for the continuation of this story! And I personally thank you all for the encouraging reviews!

**Author:** Thanks for the awesome reviews! You guys are the greatest readers anyone can ask for :D **ElvisRules41** left one of the most hilarious and terrifying review ever! I shudder to think of what might happen if I dropped this fanfic. Also, it's quite amazing I've managed to attract a sword, the one and only **Excalibur**, to this fanfic. Whoahoo!

At **Robin Hood**: Hi! I love you btw XD But anyways no I'm not writing this to flirt(Hehe)! You're definitely right chapter 8 was cut short since I haven't really continue on with Anastasia's diary. Didn't get too much of a chance to. Hopefully if all goes according to plan it'll play a role in the main story. Chapter 1 is missing the bit of stuff that occurred while Anastasia was unconscious. Hmm... that's definitely some food for thought for the next time I edit the entire story. Well you have a very good eye Robin and I expect no less! Oh and feel free to hunt me down anyways :D

Without farther ado, **Enjoy**!

**Anthony's Pov**

I walked out of the rehearsal room both delighted and in despair. I was absolutely thrilled that my little sister would finally get a skilled doctor. But then, I hadn't been able to ask her, Anastasia, the question that's been tormenting me for the past few days. A masquerade is being held in less than two weeks time and I still haven't found a date. How am I suppose to ask her? What if I got rejected? Did I just miss my chance to ask her? These persistent questions plagued me as I walked to the cafe for a light meal before the next rehearsal with the entire cast and crew.

"Ooof.", a voice cried out. Looking down, I noticed that I had accidentally crashed into a young lady.

"I'm so sorry, mademoiselle.", I quickly apologized. "Here, let me help you up." She took my hand and I pulled her up.

"Thank you.", she said as she dusted herself off.

"I should've watched where I was going.", I stammered.

"You must've been too hungry.", she said with a small smile.

"Yeah…", I agreed. She was about to walk off, when I grabbed her by the arm. "Wait! Would you care to join me in a light lunch… breakfast lunch… brunch?"

"Brunch?", she laughed. I joined in.

"Sorry, I couldn't think of a better word.", I apologized again.

"Sure, I'll join you for a brunch.", she replied. We headed for the cafe together.

**-O-**

**3rd Person Pov**

As the Phantom was leaving the kitchen though the interior tunnels of the opera house, he spotted a young couple still sitting in one of the long tables. Everyone else had left. Light laughter rang out from the table. When he got closer, he realized that he recognized the couple. Meg was happily chattering with Anthony. Their food was all but gone, but they remained seated.

"I'm really sorry that I crashed into you, but I sure don't regret it now!", Anthony joked.

"Shame on you!", Meg playfully scolded.

"Perhaps I still owe you a dinner then.", he offered.

"I'll hold you to it.", she said.

"I never break my promises.", he scoffed while looking offended.

"Perhaps, we should head on to the rehearsals now.", she said. For the first time, they noticed that the cafe was empty.

"Walk with me?", he asked as he cleaned up the table.

"Sure. We only got five minutes, so we better walk fast.", she replied.

"Only five minutes? Five minutes is more than enough to arrive on time.", he said. They left the cafe together. Echos of their cheerful voice trailed behind them as they descended down the large halls. A plan was slowly forming in the Phantom's mind as he watched the young couple walk away.

* * *

_A few days later... _**Nadir's House**

Two loud knocks caused Nadir to spill hot tea on his shirt. "Who the blazes visits this early in the morning?", Nadir complained. "Darius, is anyone supposed to visit us today?"

"No, master."

"Go answer the door. Better not be those damned marketers again.", he said, annoyed that his new cotton white shirt now has a stain on it. He picked up his unfinished newspaper and left for his room to change. He quickly skimmed through the news searching for the article that had caught his attention. It had to be sheer coincidence that the front cover of this weeks news was dedicated to the Delacroix family. Another knock on his door interrupted him again.

"What is it?", Nadir sighed.

"You have a visitor.", Darius answered

"Tell him I'm busy."

"He's quite insistent on staying.", Darius said.

"Oh, speak of the devil.", Nadir muttered as he left his room.

"It's nice to see you too.", his uninvited visitor said sarcastically.

"What are you doing here so early, Erik? You could easily be spotted!", Nadir exclaimed. Silence. His visitor had seated himself on a wooden chair and was now fixated on the empty wall instead of him. "Erik? What's troubling you?"

"She's ignoring Erik again." A look of confusion spread across Nadir's face for a few seconds.

"It's probably nothing. Just um… women issues.", Nadir said, trying to comfort his distressed friend.

"No. She kissed Erik… twice." The look on Nadir's face was priceless. It was one of bewilderment, glee, and a tinge of fear." Erik continued on, "Well, she didn't actually kiss Erik two times. Only the first. But… she didn't break away the second."

"Oh.", Nadir said. He paused for a moment, taking in all the information.

"She's avoiding Erik…", his friend whispered. Silence took hold of the room once more. Nadir cleared his throat.

"I must ask. Was this the only reason you came here today?", Nadir questioned. The question seemed to break his friend free from his sulken state.

"No.", Erik replied. "Have you found the old news yet?"

"No." Erik's golden eyes darkened. "I've got something even better." Nadir smiled.

"What?", Erik asked.

Three light knocks on the door prevented Nadir from fully revealing the newspaper. He immediately motion for Erik to hide in his room. "Who is it?", Nadir asked as he opened his front door slightly. A dark cloaked figure of a woman stood at his door. A black scarf hid her face from view.

"Mind letting me in? It's me Anastasia.", the figure whispered, while slightly revealing her face. Nadir immediately opened up the door to let his second uninvited visitor in.

"I apologise for this sudden intrusion.", she said sincerely as she entered the room. The room was in a petty disarray. The chairs were shifted farther from the table than usual and there was a visual puddle of liquid on the table. "Eh, did I interrupt something important?"

"No, it's nothing. I was just having tea.", he answered. She eyed the two chairs suspiciously, but said nothing of it.

"Anyways, I'll get straight down to business.", she said. "I need your help."

"How may I help?", he asked.

"A young girl at the opera house is sick. I need you to help me diagnose her and do some of the standard test. Can you help me?"

"What's her current condition?", Nadir asked.

"Extremely fatigue and coughing. But before that she had a high fever.", she answered.

"Hmm… that leaves quite a few options.", Nadir said.

"And that's why I need you to diagnose her and figure out any other symptoms. I clearly can't do the job.", she reasoned.

"I'll do it.", Nadir said. Anastasia's eyes lit up.

"Great. So when can you visit her?", she questioned.

"I'm free today. The sooner the better for the child."

"Wonderful. Well doc, your patient's name is Cecilia Moreau. Does three o'clock noon sound good to you?", Anastasia asked.

"It's fine."

"Alright. I'll have Anthony Moreau, her brother, meet you outside the opera house entrance then.", she said.

"I'll be there.", Nadir responded.

"Thank you so much! Here's a down payment of a hundred francs.", she said as she quickly handed him an envelope. "I best be going before Paris wakes. I'm truly sorry for disturbing your morning tea and coming uninvited." She glanced over at the table one last time. A half covered black and white picture of a young woman caught her attention. Anastasia involuntarily took a step towards it. Her face paled so much that even Nadir noticed.

"Are you alright?", Nadir asked. He was fully aware that the news was the cause of her sudden distress. It took an agonizing amount of time for Anastasia to finally regain her composure.

"Do you mind if I see the weekly news?", Anastasia asked in a barely audible voice. Nadir walked over towards the table, grabbed the news, and immediately handed it to her. Anastasia's hands were shaking as she accepted the news.

"Perhaps you should sit.", Nadir urged gently.

**-O-**

On the other side of the bedroom door, Erik had his ear pressed up against wooden door. The last thing he managed to hear was that Anastasia was just about to leave. But instead of hearing footsteps walking away and the door creaking open and close, the conversation became an all time low.

"Are you alright?", he heard Nadir's voice ask. A grueling silence followed it. Only the creaking of wooden floorboards could be heard through the door. It was nerve-racking how quiet the house could get. The seconds tick on till the conversation outside resumed its normal pitch.

"Thank you for everything.", Anastasia said. "I've wasted enough of your morning. Best be going now." Erik heard the grinding of the chair on the floor and light footsteps walking away.

"Your welcomed here anytime.", Nadir said. The hinges on the door creak a bit. "Wait! Just one question. How did you find me?"

"Haha, I have my ways.", Anastasia insinuated cheerfully. In her normal voice she continued, "It wasn't all that hard. Finding a Persian, who also frequents the opera house, in Paris isn't very difficult. That and well money buys everything… almost everything. I'll leave it at that. Farewell." The door finally closed.

The sound of knocking startled Erik more than he would like to admit, especially since his ear was still pressed against the same door. "You can come out now.", Nadir stated.

"What did you want to show me before?", Erik asked. Nadir handed him the weekly news. He studied the front cover for a while. A large portion of the front contained a black and white photo of a rich aristocratic family. A bearded man with dark black hair had one arm slung over the shoulder of a light haired young woman and his other was playing with the baby in his wife's arms. He had a friendly youthful face and he was looking down affectionately at his child. The young woman was also looking down, but instead she seemed to be keeping an eye on young girl around the age of six, who stood in front them. It would've been another ordinary picture if the young girl wearing a charming and simple dress didn't have what looked like a wooden sword in her hands. She stood tall and proud with her wooden sword pointed towards the ground. She was looking away into the distance with a mischief smile. Granted the black and white print most likely didn't do the actual painting any credit, but it did capture the essence of the picture; a happy and loving family.

The morning was turning up more and more surprises for Nadir. He observed his friend for a while. A small faint smile was forming at the corner of his friend's lips. The cheerfulness of the family photo must have been extremely infectious. It was either that or the sight of the young girl wielding a wooden sword. A rare sight indeed. The smile slowly faded as his friend continued to skim the article. An entire page had been dedicated to the Delacroix family. It was filled with photos. The liveliness of the pictures faded as the photos became more recent. The last photograph taken of Anastasia was at a ball held for her. She resembled a magnificent queen as she stood atop the grand staircase in her flawless dress. Her smile never truly reached her eyes.

"That's her?", Erik asked stupefied.

"And now you know why it took me so long to figure out who she was.", Nadir remarked gleefully. His friend was no longer paying attention to him though. Erik's eyes were focused on a picture of a classically handsome man with very fair hair. "Hmm… you know Anastasia was glaring daggers at that picture just like you right now. Probably even more so…"

"I doubt it.", Erik huffed. "According to this news, this man, Gaston, has sworn to find her no matter the cost."

"She was pretty furious when she saw his picture. She looked like she was going to shred the entire news.", Nadir said.

"It seems like they were lovers.", Erik commented as he read the article next to the picture.

"Then I don't want to know what her hate is.", Nadir joked. His friend only responded with a deadly glare.

"Do you mind if I keep this?", Erik asked.

"Not like I have much of a choice.", Nadir responded. Erik grabbed the newspaper and headed for the door.

"What are you going to do with it?", Nadir asked. But his friend was already out the door.


	19. Chapter 19: Inconclusive

**Disclaimer:** I don't own **The Phantom of the Opera**.

**Author: **Sorry for not updating sooner! Took a lot of research to find a valid reason for Cecilia illness. Though I still don't encourage anyone to use any medical stuff in this or any other chapters as complete and actual facts or worse diagnosing someone **:P** Hehe.. Anyways, thanks everyone for all the reviews. I really love reading them.

At **ElvisRules41:** No, I'm not really a big fan of Elvis, though I love the A*Teens version of "I Can't Help Falling in Love". Never really listened to his music though, just not a fan of the slow style I guess. I don't really like loads of swears in music either. I just find it kinda unnecessary most of the time. Oh also, I'm glad you like my other story. That one's probably gonna take a while longer to write, since I'm working on this one.

At **Robin Hood: **Haha, I guess I caught my own mistake then. Oh well, there's always room for improvement if you look close enough. Thanks for telling me about the one and eight though! Had no idea really. Hope you like the chapter and I look foreword to your next review! Hehe **:D**

**Enjoy!**

From behind the mirror, Anastasia's piercing golden eyes continued to observe Nadir as he interacted with Anthony and Cecilia. Nadir had just arrived, so he was in the process of obtaining more background information on Cecilia's medical conditions and history. With a fountain pen, Anastasia's hand steadily jotted down notes in her journal.

"You've been avoiding Erik.", a voice from behind whispered. Anastasia paused and her pen created a blot of black ink on the paper.

"Erik?", Anastasia asked. She tilted her head back to see him and gave him a quizzical glance.

"Why have you been avoiding Erik?", the voice asked.

"Well…" She paused for a moment as if she was thinking. "Tell Erik that Anastasia has been very busy.", she stated. Then she resumed eavesdropping on the conversation in front of her.

"How do you feel right now, Cecilia?", Nadir asked.

"Just a bit tired.", Cecilia answered.

"How long have you been tired?", he asked.

"What do you mean?", she asked back.

"My sister has always been very.. delicate, since she was very little.", Anthony answered.

"Do you ever feel any pains in your body?", Nadir continued.

"Not really. But sometimes my head hurts a bit.", she answered.

"Alright, this is a stethoscope.", Nadir said as he showed the tool to them. "I'm going to use this to listen to your heart beats."

"Okay, the other doctor used one just like it too!", Cecilia said. Nadir proceeded to check her heart beats. Anthony stood in the background spectating the procedure closely with an anxious look on his face. Meanwhile, Anastasia was quickly scanning over the known conditions, paying little attention to the man behind her.

"You lied to Erik. Erik hasn't seen you in three days.", the man declared, breaking the silence. Anastasia finally turned around. She absentmindedly fiddled with her pen.

"You know, just because you haven't seen me, doesn't mean I've been avoiding you.", she remarked.

"What does it mean?", the man asked

"I've been busy and it probably also means I've also been elsewhere.", she said bluntly. "Though I haven't been actively seeking you out either."

"Where have you been?"

"Why does it matter?", she asked sharply, annoyed that she was being interrogated.

"Erik has been worried.", the man confessed. The annoyance in her eyes died down.

"Oh… I guess I should leave a note the next time then.", she joked while avoiding the previous question. "Erik?"

"Yes.", he responded.

"Why were you talking in third person?", she asked curiously. No response. "Are you feeling alright?" Concern was evident in her eyes.

"Erik is fine now."

"I'm fine now.", she corrected. "I've never heard you talk in third person before. I'm sorry that I caused you to worry. But, you know I'm a beast. It'd take quite a lot to hurt me."

"Thank you for your time monsieur Khan.", Anthony said.

"If any of her symptoms get worse please contact me or Anastasia.", Nadir said as he handed Anthony a card.

"Would you like me to show you out?", Anthony offered.

"No, it's alright. I know the way. Take care of your sister.", Nadir declined and left the room. Cecilia waved at him as he left and he tilted his hat to her. As soon as he was out the door, Anastasia chased after him.

It didn't take long before she was behind him. In one smooth motion, she looped her arm around his and guided him to an empty room. "This way.", she said. Once they were safe inside a room, she continued. "So what do you think is ailing Cecilia?", she asked as she let go of his arm.

"I'm not sure yet.", he admitted. "However, we have more symptoms to work with now. She's been very fatigued, since she was much younger, which suggests that she could have a chronic condition. She gets the occasional light headaches and coughs. She's very pale and her heart rate was abnormally fast."

"She could just be scared of you Nadir.", Erik suggested as he walked through a hidden door. Anastasia casted him an amused glance.

"Fatigued, headaches, coughing, pale, and fast heart rate.", she listed. "Fever could also be one of the symptoms." She started to pace back and forth, while she stared down at her open notebook.

"Mind if I see you're notebook?", Nadir asked. She handed it to him. He scanned over the notes. "You have malaria up here crossed out and rewritten a few times."

"The first time I saw her with a doctor, I thought she had malaria.", she said. "But then the doctor gave her some medicine and her fever went away after a few days."

"Malaria would fit the symptoms if you include fever in it.", Nadir said.

"But then the fever could've been caused by many things given the conditions of her previous home.", she argued.

"You've been to her house?", Nadir asked.

"It wasn't the most pleasant neighborhood: overcrowding, pungent odors, and it was winter too.", she replied with a slight shudder.

"Never been to the slums of a city before?", Erik scoffed.

"Well, it's clearly not a welcoming place: high crime rates, diseases, prostitution. Not exactly a place where nobility should wander off too, is it?", she bit back.

"She could've been bitten by a mosquito there.", Nadir said, trying to revert the subject back.

"True, but the fever could've also been caused by hypothermia.", she said.

"But malaria can stay dormant for quite a while after the initial bite.", he responded. "She could've been bitten before that." Anastasia sighed as she continued pacing.

"I know. The reason I'm hesitant to treat her for it is because of the cure; quinine. It's dangerous if used incorrectly, especially on a child.", Anastasia said.

"True. Erik what do you think?", Nadir asked. Erik motioned for the notebook and Anastasia nodded to Nadir.

"Blood loss?", Erik asked as he pointed to the words in the book. Anastasia shrugged.

"Something's better than nothing. I wrote it because it would explain the fatigue and her paleness.", she defended. "Which reminds me, Nadir, did you happened to ask if… well if Cecilia has had her period yet?"

"She's only seven. She's a bit young, don't you think?", he asked back.

"You never know.", she answered with a smirk.

"Well then, you better go ask her brother.", he said. The smirk on her face quickly faded.

"I thought that's what I hired you to do.", she retorted while feigning displeasure.

"I think you should both figure out what the cause of Cecilia's chronic fatigue before you rush to any conclusion. Visual and hearing problems are a high price to pay.", Erik said.

"I agree.", Anastasia said and grinned at Erik happily.

"So we should just wait for her to get another fever?", Nadir questioned.

"Or until new symptoms show.", Anastasia said.

"Okay. Though your notes make a very convincing argument for malaria, considering the entire list of other illnesses you crossed out.", Nadir said.

"I would place bets on malaria, but it's too risky for the child right now.", Anastasia said with concern. "Thank you, Nadir, for everything."

"You didn't have to pay me.", Nadir said. He tried to hand her back her enveloped filled with money, but she refused to take it back.

"Keep it. I don't need it.", she said.

"You paid far too much for a diagnosis.", Nadir replied.

"The doctors who killed my family were paid far more.", she exclaimed harshly. Both Nadir and Erik looked surprised by her sudden outburst. "I apologize. I don't know what got into me."

"It's fine. How are you feeling?", Nadir asked.

"I just need some fresh air.", Anastasia said. "We should speak another time." She quickly left the room through the hidden door.

"Poor child.", Nadir said. "It probably would have been better for her if I hid the newspaper."  
"Why?", Erik questioned.

"If you saw how depressed she was when her mother and sister died, you'd understand.", Nadir answered.

"How do you know?", Erik asked.

"Her father invited me to their estate a while back for a banquet. He had heard of me through a friend and asked me if I knew any cure for his daughter's depression.", Nadir answered.

"What'd you tell him?", Erik inquired.

"I told him that time was the only cure. Then I warned him not to do anything drastic, such as putting his daughter on medication for it.", Nadir answered.

"Medication… you mean drugs.", Erik said, knowingly.

"Yes. I believe the ulterior motive of the banquet was to figure out a way to cheer her up. Some of the suggestions were quite atrocious, especially the ones involving addictive drugs.", Nadir said.

"Just how depressed was she?", Erik asked.

"I only saw her briefly. But just the look in her eyes, you could tell how grievous she was. She didn't stay for the dance or the banquet.", Nadir answered.

"Is that all?", Erik asked.

"She spent the entire time locked up in another building, drinking and playing the most heartbreaking melodies on the piano.", Nadir said.

"Her father allowed that?", Erik asked.

"I think he was just glad that she didn't try to hurt herself.", Nadir responded. "I'm going home now. Take care of her." Nadir walked out of the room, leaving Erik all alone with Anastasia's notebook.

**-O-**

A solitary figure sat, leaning against a giant statue, on the rooftop with a bottle and a glass chalice in hand. The sun was slowly setting and the sky was gradually changing from light blue to a calming orange-red, but the figure barely paid attention to it. She poured another cup, swirled it around, and drank it lazily.

"Drinking isn't good for you.", Erik said. The figure shrugged and showed him the bottle. "Apple Cider."

"Would you like some?" Anastasia offered the cup to him. He accepted.

"Why do you use a cup when you have the bottle all to yourself?", he questioned.

"My father told me to always use a cup when drinking.", she said. "But I think he meant alcoholic beverages. Guess, it's just a habit I developed."

"You drink a lot?", Erik asked. She nodded.

"Used to. But alcohol just makes you more miserable.", she said.

"You forgot this.", he said as he handed her the notebook. She flipped through her notes. Only a few pages of the thin book had been written on. A few sketches of pictures were drawn on the corners of the pages.

"She looks so much like her.", Anastasia whispered as she traced the picture with her hand.

"Your sister?", Erik asked.

"Yes. Same blond curls and friendly blues eyes. My sister took to my mother, whereas I look more like my father.", she said.

"What was she like?", Erik asked.

"She was so lively; so full of energy. You'd need to sing her to sleep or read a boring book. But she was also the kindest person you'd ever meet.", Anastasia smiled as she spoke. Erik just listened. "You know, she was so nice that it was kind of crazy."

"Really?", Erik asked. She nodded.

"One time when I skipped class with some friends to play ball in the meadows near my lil sister's grade school. From a distance, my friend saw two kids yelling at each other. I was just going to ignore it and continue on playing, but my friend wanted to check it out to make sure it was really nothing. Thank the lord we did. Turns out that one of the kids was my sis. The other girl pushed her to the ground and started yelling something about how she shouldn't be friends with the kids for some rubbish reasons. One of my other friends tackled the girl down. When I helped my sis up, never once did she insult that girl back. Instead she just told the girl that she didn't like how she was insulting her friends and that she's not going to judge them by their backgrounds. Later on, I asked her why she even tried to be friends with that girl if she was known for being a bully. She just said that the other girl always seemed so alone and sad and she thought she needed a friend.", Anastasia said with a nostalgic smile.

"She sounds kind of like you.", Erik said. Anastasia laughed and shook her head.

"Perhaps now. But not before, when I was younger. My friends and I had planned on making the other girl's life miserable for what she did. Quite a few of them were extremely offended by what the girl said. When my sis figured out, she ordered us to stop bullying the girl."

"What you do to the other girl?", Erik ask with an amused look.

"We might've dropped a few eggs on her. I personally made her life miserable at social gatherings and parties. My friends would tease her whenever they saw her I think.", she said while looking to the ground.

"You were quite a delinquent. Skipping school. Bullying.", he said.

"Haha… I guess. We didn't bully others though.", she said. "Well, we didn't bully anyone without a valid reason.", she corrected.

"I'm surprised you skipped school.", Erik said.

"I hated being stuck in a boring old classroom, when it was so beautiful outside.", she said. "My teachers hated me, but they couldn't use the ruler on me." She laughed.

"You're crying.", Erik said out loud when he turned to look at her.

"Huh?", she asked. He gently wiped the single teardrop that slid down her face. "Oh... I miss them so much." She let out a breathe. "I wish that it was me instead of them. If I could do everything all over, I'd even marry the man my parents chose for me if it would allow me to be with them just a while longer." It was Erik's turn to look confused.

"What do you mean? Marry?", he asked.

"I ran away from home to ditch my wedding.", she said. "I'd rather not talk about it though." The two sat in a comfortable silence as they watch the last of the sunlight fade away.

**Author: **Hope you guys like the little background information on Anastasia! Just a note, there's about **10** chapters left till the end instead of 6. Hope none of you are _**disappointed ;)** _I'm gonna set a goal of writing two a week **:D**


	20. Chapter 20: Friends and Foes

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

**Author:** Hello readers! **I've just combined chapters 20 and 21, Friends and Foes together.** Also, I'm trying to finish this story again! Sorry for the super long disappearance! My life has been quite chaotic and I've got loads of homework and other stuff that needs to be done.

**Enjoy!**

**3rd Person Pov**

A finely dressed couple entered the Palais Garnier. The woman had striking red hair with a large flowered hat that hid most of her face in shadows. The man had sharp features and a crooked nose. Despite that, he was still very handsome with his blue eyes and slick jet black hair. Almost immediately, a stagehand, who was covered in sweat and dried paint, approached them.

"I would like to speak with the managers." the man said, not bothering to formally greet the man. At once the couple were led to the managers' office. Golden eyes followed them as they walked.

"Here's the managers' office, monsieur." the stagehand said, and quickly turned around to leave.

"Thank you." the red haired lady said with a smile. Surprise was evident in the stagehand. He turned around to face the woman, and politely tilted his cap to her.

"Anything for you, miss." he said with a genuine smile. The other man was already knocking on the office door.

"Come in." a voice shouted from behind the door. The man scowled, but opened the office door.

"Greetings monsieur, mademoiselle! How may we help you?" M. Firmin asked. He stood up and shook hands with the dark haired man.

"Gaston Legrand, and this is Elizabeth." He gestured towards his female companion.

"Richard Firmin."

"Moncharmin Armand. But just call me Armand."

"So what brings you to our Opera house?" M. Firmin asked.

"There's a fugitive hiding within your fine establishment." Gaston stated. The looks on both the managers both darkened. Armand automatically shut the door.

"That's outrageous!" M. Armand declared.

"If this is about the Phantom of the Opera, well then I assure you that he is no longer an issue." M. Firmin persuaded.

"I am not here on account of the Phantom, monsieur." Gaston said.

"If you aren't here for him, then who?" M. Firmin asked.

"I'm searching for the monster who murdered my beloved Anastasia Delacroix." he replied.

"What makes you so certain that this murderer is here?" M. Armand questioned.

"This." The lady handed him an envelope with the signature seal of the Bank of France. He quickly opened it and scanned the document inside. She continued, "Do you see the last withdrawal, around half a million francs? That was taken out after Anastasia went missing."  
"And what does this have to do with us?" M. Armand asked.

"Well, see the date. That withdrawal was around two and a half years ago around the same time when this fine opera house was under severe financial prob-"

"What are you implying?" M. Armand demanded, cutting her off.

"Whoever paid off your half million debt is the murderer!" Gaston declared.

"For your information, a very wealthy patron helped pay off the debts." M. Armand said coldly. "And we do not collaborate with murderers!"

"Willingly? No. But I highly doubt that the police or even her father, the marquis of Champagne, will see the difference." he coerced. Anger was clear on the both the managers.

"As I just stated, a very wealthy patron paid off our debts. Now please leave this instance!" M. Armand ordered.

"I guess I'll just have to inform the police and the press about this. Couldn't solve it the easy way." Gaston said with a dangerous smirk . He stood up to leave, yet the woman remained seated.

"Monsieurs, please just tell us who this wealthy patron is?" Elizabeth implored.

"Our patron prefers to remain anonymous." M. Firmin said.

"We promise we won't reveal his identity then. Please it would save us a lot of time if you just told us who your patron is." she persuaded.

"Mademoiselle, please leave." M. Armand said in a commanding tone. She looked back and forth between the two managers. They both looked uneased by the topic.

"You do not know who your patron is." she stated. There was no question in her voice. "Is there any way you could arrange a meeting with this patron?"

"He does not take kindly to being bothered." M. Firmin said. It was clear to her that both the managers were very unwilling to talk.

"Look." she said. She pulled out a photograph and showed it to the managers. "This is Anastasia Delacroix. Her father the Marquis of Champagne is a very affluent man; one of the wealthiest men in Europe. He has drowned himself in grief and sorrow, not knowing what became of his last daughter. If you help us solve this case, I'm sure that he'll thank you greatly." The looks on both the managers' faces softened slightly. They were internally debating whether or not they should help.

"We'll help on one condition. Nothing we tell you will leave this room, unless you are absolutely certain that the murderer is among us." M. Firmin said.

"Agreed." Elizabeth said. Firmin eyed Gaston.

"You have my word." Gaston promised. There was moment of silence, hesitation and anticipation could be felt in the air.

"It's true, we don't know the identity of the patron. You must understand we were in a desperate situation. The unknown patron sent us a letter and the day after we agreed to the deal, half a million francs were sent to our account." M. Firmin told them.

"What was the deal?" Gaston inquired.

"A share of the Opera House." M. Firmin responded.

"May I see the letter?" Elizabeth asked. The managers gave each other uncertain looks. Armand nodded to Firmin. Firmin took out his keys, unlocked a drawer, and took out a batch of letters. After he sifted through them, he found what he was looking for. The other letters were sealed with a well defined red skull, which was the center of attention for both of the guests.

"Here." He distinctly handed the letter to the woman. She slowly read through the letter…

**_Dear Managers,_**

**_It has come to my attention that the acclaimed Palais Garnier is in eminent danger of bankruptcy. I will be brief._**

**_I will pay off all its current debts on the condition that I get a 40% share and ownership of this fine establishment. This is nonnegotiable. According to my calculations, half a million francs (500,000 francs) will be more than enough to pay off both the debt and start anew._**

**_If you chose to accept, leave a letter of response and an official certification of my share of the opera house in box 5 by midnight today. This offer will not be repeated. If you need further persuasion, calculate the interest rate of the bank with your current debt, then calculate the time needed to acquire the money to pay it off. I'm sure you'll see reason._**

**_I have no wish to watch as the hundreds of fine employees become destitute and impoverished because of your negligence._**

**_Choose wisely,_**

**_A.D._**

"A.D? Anastasia Delacroix…" Elizabeth thought out loud. "She's alive!" She immediately turned to Gaston and her eyes narrow. "You told me she's dead!" she accused.

"The murderer impersonated her. It's obvious they took her name too!" Gaston defended. "Anyways, this hideous writing can't be hers. Anastasia has elegant writing." he continued. Elizabeth looked down at the letter with disappointment. Her eyes continually scanned it back and forth, searching for any signs of hope. The letter had a childish look to it, as if the writer never learned to properly write. However, it was clearly too well written to be a child's work.

"What are the other letters, monsieur?" she asked the managers.

"Just anonymous letters and notes." M. Firmin replied.

"May I see them?" He handed one to her. Opening it, she read the short note that was more of an order and critique on the opera house. "O.G. Is this the Phantom of the Opera?" she asked.

"It means opera ghost." M. Firmin said.

"The writing is different, but similar. Perhaps… perhaps she was trying to imitate the opera ghosts writing." she theorized.

"It's not Anastasia Delacroix! She's dead." Gaston stated.

"Her body was never found!" she argued.

"Just face it, she's dead. Her killer told me!" he responded. She shook her head, but stopped arguing.

"Has A.D written any other letters?" she asked the managers.

"No." M. Firmin replied.

"Why did you keep it with the letters from the opera ghost?"

"That's just the pile for anonymous letters." M. Armand answered, since Firmin seemed unsure of how to answer.

"I find it strange how this sponsor would only write one letter." she said. "Can I see the rest of the letters?" she asked. The managers' obliged to her request, and she looked through the rest of the letters starting from the most recent. Occasionally, she'd comment on her observations and they would chat and debate. Gaston quickly skimmed through the letters, looking thoroughly bored and impatient. The managers gradually warmed up to the beautiful, red haired woman. They were intrigued by her observations and theories about their mysterious patron.

"My look at the time! I'm afraid we must look at the rest at another time. Unfortunately, we have an announcement to make for the rest of the opera house." M. Firmin said. He looked to M. Armand when he said the last part.

"Can we come along? I've never actually been here before today." she asked.

"You are welcomed to join, mademoiselle." M. Firmin responded instantly. "Perhaps we could give you a tour as well."

"That would be lovely." she responded. Gaston looked relieved to finally be leaving the office. They were led out of the office and towards the theater.

**-O-**

From box 5, dimmed gold eyes watched the rehearsal resume. During every break, Meg and Anthony would meet up, laugh, and chat. Every smile Anthony shot at Meg would make Anastasia cringe and wish to look away. She didn't know how close they were, but by their looks they were warming up quick. She was about to return to the lair when she saw the managers enter the theater, interrupting the rehearsal. They were accompanied by a dark haired man and a red haired woman. They both looked familiar.

"Listen up everyone!" M. Firmin ordered. All heads turned towards him. M. Reyer the maestro and madame Giry both shot him a frustrated looked, which he ignore. "There's going to be a change of casting." There was a lot of murmur within the crowd. They all knew that the opera was due to in less than a weeks time. "Meg Giry will replace Angelique in the role of Eurydice!" Meg immediately turned pale and all eyes were now on her.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Madame Giry asked him in astonishment.

"This surely must be a complete joked!" Angelique laughed shrilly. "You can't seriously have her replace me!"

"The cast has been change." M. Firmin stated firmly. Meg ran out the theater, and Anthony followed not far behind.

"Her?! Your choosing that ballad rat over me?" she asked in front of everyone. Madame Giry immediately took to offense against Angelique. Angry shouts could easily be heard from outside the theater.

Meg heard an eruption of voices coming from the theater, but she kept on running. "Slow down, Meg!" Anthony said as he caught up to her and grabbed her arms.

"I can't. I just can't. It must be a complete joke" Meg mumbled.

"Didn't sound like a joke. There must be a reason for the managers to choose you!" Anthony comforted. "You should be happy! You've finally got the spotlight you deserve!" he continued. She had her face in her hands as Anthony gave her a friendly hug.

"But I've got less than a week to learn the lines." she whimpered. Anthony said nothing for a while.

"You probably already know the lines, considering how many times we've already rehearsed the opera." he said.

"But I can't sing!" she cried.

"You're in the chorus! I'm sure you can sing." he replied.

"Not solo." she responded. He bit his lips.

"I have a secret music tutor. But she prefers to remain anonymous, even to me." he confessed. It got Meg's attention and for once she looked up at him with puffy red eyes.

"I'm sure she'll make you an exception." he said.

"Really?" she asked in a hopeful voice.

"Really. You'll be singing like a professional in a week's time." he promised when he saw her eyes light up, forgetting that he hadn't even convinced his tutor to help her yet.

"When can I meet her?" she asked with an excited smile.

"I'm supposed to meet her tomorrow morning. Meet me at the main stairwell at 7 am, and I'll bring you to her." he answered. He continued comforting her as he led her back to the theater. Angelique stormed out the room just as they were entering. She crashed into Meg with her shoulder, and pushed on.

"Slut." she snared. Anthony whispered something into Meg's ear and she continued on walking, completely ignoring Angelique.

"Meg, it's good to see you back." M. Firmin said. The crowd seemed to agree. Angelique hadn't shown the best side of herself when she argued with the managers about her role. "I'm sure that you'll do fine as the new lead, and I'm sure that Anthony is willing to help." M. Firmin encouraged.

"Thank you, monsieur!" Meg said, wiping the last of her tears off her face.

"Take the rest of the day off to get acquainted with your new lines." he said. The managers bid farewell to the rest of the cast and left with their guests. Madame Giry and M. Reyer dismissed everyone for the day because of the change of cast.

**-O-**

Furrowed golden eyes watched the scene below her. Surprise and then frustration overtook her. The shouting and noise below only fueled her inner turmoil. When Meg returned in Anthony's arms, her frustration became rage. The once golden eyes became the red amber eyes of a predator. She completely forgot about the managers' new guest. The beast only had one target in mind as it stalked through the dark tunnels.

She paused for a moment, taking in a whiff of the air. Her target was close by. Her footsteps were nearly silent on the stone floor. When she saw her target she made her footstep mimic his. As she approached him from behind, she withdrew her dagger. In a swift movement, she locked her left arm around the neck of her target, pulling him slightly down to her level, and her other hand pressed the dagger against his neck.

A cold, unexpected blade pressed close against the man's neck. If he leaned forward even slightly his neck might be slit. "Why?" a voice growled from behind.

"Why what?" he hissed. He knew his attacker, but a tinge of fear still gripped him.

"You know why! I warned you! I warned if you ever messed with Anthony, I'd make you pay!" she whispered angrily in his ear.

"I never harmed him!" he growled back.

"But making Meg lead interferes with my plans!" she said.

"Are you going to kill me?" he hissed out, barely able to breathe with the dagger near his neck. She pressed the razor sharp dagger closer, drawing blood. "Ana." he croaked. Two pairs of steps could be heard coming closer to the tunnel from the outside.

"Anastasia Delacroix is dead. When I find the beast, you better not get in the way!" a man's voice warned. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared down at the man she nearly murdered. She released him from her grip and fled into the darkness.

**As always read and review!**


	21. Chapter 21: The Day After

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** I've been gone for a while. Sorry.

**Enjoy!**

Sunlight pierced my eyes as I watched the early morning Parisians set up their stalls going about their everyday routines. My right hand was still bandaged tightly in linen. A souvenir from my reckless actions the night before. I could barely recall the moments after the first glass.

_**The night before…**_

_I remember watching Elizabeth and Gaston whispering their plans to hunt me down in a low tone in a secluded corner of the opera house. Like romantic idiots, they didn't know the beast was just around the corner. It stung. For some reason, her betrayal stung more than the Phantom's betrayal. Irrational. Perhaps it was because I considered her a friend; a close friend._

_I fled once more away from the world into the darkness. The darkness gave me freedom, freedom to torment myself with thoughts, with feelings. It all grew, consuming my being with bitter rage. Once more I stood before a mirror, reflecting a cowardly shell of my former self. A white mask hid my cursed face. Was my appearance the only thing of value? Just a pretty face? My bitter rage turned into disgust for the world. The mask fell to the floor and that hideous face stared back at me. I couldn't stand to stare at that face. Who could?_

_I naturally reached for that glass of wine to wash everything away. Self-loathing. Depression. Unrequited love. Betrayal. Twice in one day. Just lovely…_

_For a brief moment, I felt nothing but the stinging pain emitting from my palm. Shattered glass rung as they hit the cold stone floor. I reveled in that peace, wishing for it to stay. But just like everything else in my life, even pain would forsaken me, allowing my thoughts to flood back to torment me._

_"Ana! Anastasia! What are you doing?!" Something forced the jagged glass shard out from my grip. "Bloody hell, what have you done to yourself?" the man's voice cursed. I tried to find that voice. "Stay, don't move. You're only going to deepen the cuts," it commanded._

_"I can do what I want," I shouted back. I got up to find the voice. Half the man's face was white and the other half was a blurry double image of a chiseled face. I reached for the white and everything after that was a strange disorienting haze._

**Present...**

Two pairs of footsteps gradually drew nearer. I felt a sinking feeling take hold of me. The door swung open and close and the pair entered the room.

"You've broken our agreement," I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady.

"Please Ana," Anthony pleaded. "You must understand that I had no other choice," That was clearly a lie.

"What is the name of the young lady you would risk your fame for?" I asked even though I already knew the answer.

"Anastasia meet Meg Giry. Meg this is Anastasia," he introduced.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Anastasia," Meg hesitantly said. I stared blankly out the window.

"Please Ana, you must teach her how to sing!" Anthony begged. I didn't know how to respond. "If not for her then for the sake of the opera house. Please teach her, she has less than a week to learn her lines," There was a note of urgency in his voice. It would've been cruel to prolong his pleas.

"You shouldn't doubt the manager's decision, boy," I responded harsher than I intended. The room was tense.

"Please mademoiselle, please help me become a better singer!"

"Fine. I will teach you," I told her as I finally turned around to face them. She gasped out loud. Her eyes shined with fear. Anthony immediately slipped his hands around her waist and held her closely.

"It's just a mask. There's nothing to be frightened of," Anthony told her softly.

"It's just… it's just that.. nevermind," she whispered to him. "I'm sorry. You're masked surprised me, considering this opera house has its share of ghost stories, you know," She apologized to me.

"It's alright. Masks can be quite frightening. Well, the clock's still ticking, might as well practice. Please Meg, demonstrate your singing skills so we can build from there,"

**-o-**

**A few days later...**

**Meg's Pov**

I snuck another glance at Anthony's secret tutor. Her mask was awfully scary. What was even worse was the scars that ran across her neck that her mask couldn't hide. I couldn't tell whether it was makeup or if it was real. Anastasia, that was her name. I don't recall anyone by that name, yet she seemed so familiar. It was frightening. Perhaps she just reminded me of the phantom.

"Your voice sounds so lovely now," Anthony complimented. The first opera premieres in less than two days.

"It was always lovely," Anastasia corrected with a laugh. "These past few days only improved her singing habits and tone."

"Thank you," I responded. I felt my face burning up from the compliment. Anastasia started out so cold, but now I was actually enjoying the practice sessions. She was so distant at times though.

"Get some rest, go enjoy the evening. You've done enough practice for the day," she told us as she packed up her music sheets.

"Will I ever see you again? I know I broke our original deal," Anthony asked. "But I really enjoyed these practice sessions with all of us." Anastasia casually shrugged.

"Maybe, I haven't decided yet," she responded. "You don't really need me anymore either." She was looking down at the floor as she said it, but when she looked up she was smiling.

"Will you at least be at the premiere?" he asked.

"I will be watching." she responded. "I'll see you at the afterparty."

"See you later then." Anthony held my hand as we left the room. I saw him glancing back at the masked girl. He does that often, I've noticed. Everytime she wasn't watching.

"You know, I never see her leave the room," I remarked.

"Neither have I," he said. "I've always left before she did."

"Do you want to wait?" I asked. "Maybe we could ask her to join us for lunch." Curiosity was getting the best of me. I've constantly wondered who she was. Perhaps she was the benevolent phantom of the opera.

"I don't think she'd want that. She's always so secretive," he said.

"We could eat out." I responded. "It could be our thank you gift to her."

"I'm not so sure she'd like that."

"Come on, it'll be fun," I persuaded.

"I guess there's no harm in trying," he responded hesitantly.

"Let's ask her," I said as I approached the room we just left. I knocked on the door a few times. No one answered. Anthony tested the doorknob and the door easily opened.

"She not here," he said as he looked around the room. "She couldn't have just left, could she?"

"I swear we would've seen her go," I responded.

"That's strange," he mumbled. "There's no other door."

"Let's, let's just go," I begged him. She couldn't have just vanished. She wasn't a ghost, was she? No, she must've known some of the secret passages in the opera house. Yet, how could she have known them?

**As always, please Review!**


	22. Chapter 22: The Premiere

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** Here's another chapter :D

**Enjoy!**

**Anastasia's Pov**

Today was the day of the premiere. Despite the Palais Garnier's bad reputation, people still flocked to see the opening. Perhaps its ill reputation was the reason this theater garnered so much attraction and attention. The crowd was still settling into their seats. I scanned the boxes, wondering if I'd spot any familiar faces. I saw a few wealthy nobles stationed in the higher boxes. A single grey haired nobleman had settled himself in one of our best boxes alone. He clearly wasn't waiting for anyone since he was already settled in. He had no guards either. Curious.

The phantom sat patiently next to me. We had barely spoken in the past week. A chilling air had settled between us. Neither of us mentioned the kiss anymore. It's like it never happened. I think I must have surprised him when I decided to train Meg.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"No," I responded casually. Caught. He held a stoic countenance, giving away no emotion. He was undeniably handsome, at least the side of him I could see. Was I falling for him? But what of the other side; the side behind the mask. I turned away, staring back at the singular nobleman. No one had joined him yet. My mind reverted back to the man sitting next to me. Was I truly that shallow?

The nobleman pulled out a black leatherbound book. It's gilded golden borders caught my eye. This man had one of the best seats, yet he preferred to read instead of watching the opera. How insulting… I quickly got up and left. I decided to pay that man a visit.

I resettled myself in the back corner of the dark box. I had nearly tripped when I saw the man's face up close. He looked so old, so tired. Grey hair marred his once jet black hair. His eyes no longer shined brilliantly blue. This man couldn't be my father. Yet, I knew that he was. Did my disappearance do this to him? A bottle of clear liquor sat on the floor beside his chair. For once, I wasn't sure what to do anymore. For most of Act I, I sat there quietly staring at my father. I didn't dare move closer. I wanted to reveal myself. But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

"You shouldn't drink so much, Monsieur," I finally whispered after watching him take another swing of his alcohol.

"What?" he asked, clearly startled. I remained silent. My spark of confidence had faded. "Ana?" He still recognized my voice after all these years.

"I'm here," I finally said.

"You're alive?" he whispered. Perhaps more to himself. But I still heard it.

"Yes," I responded.

"How?" he asked.

"How what?" I asked back. "How am I alive? Well… I never died to begin with, so…"

"Why didn't you come back?" he accused.

"You would've locked me up again," I responded truthfully. "I needed to break the curse."

"The curse?"

"Yes. I'm still a horrific sight…" I told him. "So don't turn around. Please just don't."

"Is that a lack of confidence I detect?" he laughed as he questioned me. "I thought I taught you to always hold your head up high. My stubborn daughter has finally become humble."

"Ugh. This is not a laughing matter," I retorted with a smile.

"You're beautiful just the way you are," he said kindly.

"You can actually still say that after the ugly sight you witnessed?" I asked back. He sighed heavily.

"Sometimes it isn't the appearance that makes one beautiful, it's their personality," he chided.

"I knew that," I responded. "But sometimes the appearance can be so distracting that one's personalities is lost," I countered.

"Then the other person's an idiot." I resumed watching the opera. "Ana, you know you can come home anytime, even if you don't break the curse. No more locks."

"Thanks."

"You will come back, won't you?" he asked.

"Once I break the curse."

"As stubborn as usual." We continued talking as the opera unfolded. He stopped drinking and I moved closer, so I was sitting behind him. I quickly stole the journal and his bottle. The journal was mine. I wasn't sure how he had found it among the vast library of books, but I guess he had the time. The opera was coming to an end as Orpheus led the shadow of his wife through the underworld. Another tragic tale.

I left before the lights turned on again. But I continued watching my father from behind the walls. He immediately turned around when the lights went back up. His eyes searched around the room and fell on the mirror. He stared into it as if he saw me. But moments later he turned away and smiled when he noticed that his bottle and journal were gone.

**-O-**

**3rd Person Pov**

"Anastasia?" Erik asked as he walked alongside her back down to the lair.

"Hello, Erik," she greeted him. She looked up from her book.

"You left before the opera started," he commented.

"There'll be more operas in the coming month," she replied nonchalantly. Her attention was absorbed in a black leather book. She was flipping through the pages briefly, stopping to read whatever was on the pages sometimes. As she flipped through it a white card fluttered to the ground. Erik picked it up. It was quite fancy with its borders gilded with a golden laurel at the top. He automatically flipped it open, but was about to hand it back to Anastasia when he read the name "Raoul de Chagny" written in cursive.

"What's that?" Anastasia asked curiously until she saw the letter. "Oh." Erik couldn't tear his eyes off the card.

* * *

_**You are cordially invited to the Wedding of**_

_**Vicomte Raoul de Chagny and Anastasia Delacroix**_

* * *

"You were going to marry Raoul de Chagny?" Erik asked.

"It was an arranged marriage," She replied back, unsure of why he looked so startled. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. No. Yes," Erik said.

"Er… make up your mind." She gave him an amused glance. "Do you know Raoul?"

"Yes."

"Alright, how do you know him?" she asked. The man remained silent. "Wait, don't tell me. Oh my god…" A wicked smile that made her golden eyes lighten up took over her usually neutral expression. "Was he the vicomte that married the singer?" His silence only solidified the answer. "Well.. I am truly sorry. Wow." She quickly snatched back the card and tucked it back into the book.

"Why didn't you marry him?" he finally asked. If he didn't sound so sincere in his question, she would've felt offended.

"As I said, it was an arranged marriage. I was young; he was younger. I had no wish to lose my freedom and be bound by the chains of matrimony, especially with some boy I barely knew. It was frightening," she replied passionately. The phantom looked away in thought. "On the other hand, he was quite handsome and a gentleman."

"The boy was a fop!" Erik stated.

"Hmm… I thought that added to his charm actually," Anastasia defended.

"You liked him?" Erik asked in a disgusted tone.

"Well, I don't dislike him. I felt bad for walking out on the marriage," she admitted as her smile faded.

"What happened?" he asked. Anastasia started to fidget with the book in her hand, refusing to make eye contact again.

"Well, um… Let's see… I left a letter in my stead during the ceremony," she said. "In my defense, I did refuse the marriage several times beforehand. I was an… overconfident arse back then. So I disguised myself and watched the ceremony and all its awkwardness. Oh, and the day after, that was bad to put it lightly."

"What happened the day after?"

"Well, good lord, this is like a guilt trip." She sighed, but continued. "So, at that time, I had gotten a lot of marriage proposals. I was one of the most qualified bachelorettes in Europe being the daughter of a Marquis and all. I had never been interested in romance before. So, I had the reputation of being a virgin, which only made my appeal increase. So, I decided to rectify that by visiting a local house of ill repute, a brothel, and I made sure people saw. Yes. I was totally an arse back then. Well, in the course of a few days my father's reputation quickly spiraled downwards."

"You did all that to spite your marriage?" he asked, clearly shocked by the news he was receiving.

"Yes. And it was a stupid, stupid, thoughtless thing to do. So after that, I ran away. I couldn't show my face. I had made my family the wealthiest laughing stocks in all of Europe," she confessed as she fiddled with her journal.

"You visited a brothel?" he asked.

"Would you believe me if I said I did nothing there?" she asked.

"Yes," he responded.

"Oh good, well you're the first," she replied.

"What did you afterwards?" he asked.

"Enough about me, I think I deserve a few answers here," she stated, with her smile coming back. "Tell me about you, Raoul, and the singer."

"You don't know?" he asked.

"I hadn't really bothered to uncover the facts. But now I am certainly interested," she responded.

"Her name was Christine Daae. She was orphaned at a young age and she went under the care of Madame Giry. When I became a an adolescent, I left the opera house and traveled across Europe. I met Nadir and so I left Russia for Persia. Then I eventually came back here. She had grown during that time, she had become a beautiful young woman. She was a seamstress though, with Charlotta being a the prima donna. So I taught her how to sing and eventually she replace Charlotta in the role. However, her beauty during the performance caught the attention of Vicomte de Chagny, the fop."

"She must've been young," Anastasia commented.

"She was around sixteen at that time," he responded.

"Sixteen?! She's still a child," She said more to herself, but it didn't hide her disapproving tone. "Sorry, please continue."

"I was in love with her and so was he," he said. "I tried to win her heart, but she chose to go with him."

"What about the fire; the chandelier incident?" she asked.

"She took off my mask in public and Erik cut down the chandelier," he answered.

"Ah. I see." she nodded. "I feel like you cut your story a little too short, but I will not interrogate you anymore. We also have an after party to attend." She quickly left him and rushed towards the lair with her book and bottle in hand. He stood there for a while, contemplating the information he just received.

**Read and Review! :D**


	23. Chapter 23: Masquerade Part 1

**Disclaimer:** _The Phantom of the Opera_ was written by Gaston Leroux.

**Author: **A great big thanks to everyone who favorited and followed this story. It's nice to know someone's actually reading this story.

Also, a special thanks for **MlleNikki** for reviewing twice. You see every time I get a review, it gets sent to my email and then I go "Ooh someone's reading my story!" and then I reread that review over the course of the day since I obviously have my phone one 24/7 and then I go "Ugh, I really shouldn't keep the readers waiting!" So here's the results; the Masquerade! **:D** I have honestly been dying to write this scene from the start.

**!Warning!** Halfway through this chapter, there's going to be some strong words thrown about, so I hope the word choice does not offend or destroy your innocence, jk** :P**. But really, just had to warn you first! Nothing all that bad actually...

Well, I hope you **enjoy** the party!

"Where did you get the dress?" Erik asked. The off white dress accentuated the curves of her feminine figure giving her a seductive feel, yet at the same time it barely revealed her skin, leaving it to the viewer's imagination. There was just enough shine on it to reflect the light and give her a mystical aura. Her ragged golden brown fur neckline and the few tears and wears made her look as if she had fallen from grace.

"I made it," Anastasia said. She gave him a seductive wink as she twirled around to show off the entire dress. Her torn half cape swirled with her, revealing what looked to be the remains of torn off wings.

"You look... beautiful," he complimented with a shocked expression, "You made this?"

"Well, I can only take credit for the design," she admitted.

"You've been busy."

"I had nothing better to do," she stated blatantly, ignoring his underlying question.

"Well, it seems like we're going to be fashionably late now," he said while offering her an arm.

"Had you warned me I was going to have a handsome escort, I would've sped things up a bit," she flirted, surprising herself as well as the man next to her. "Let's hurry," she added in, "There's a difference between late and fashionably late." They had an awkward semi walk and sprint canter as they tried to reach the upper levels of the opera house on time while their arms were still interlocked. Midway through their journey, they ended up holding hands instead. Both of them gave each other amused glances while choosing not to comment on it farther. "So what happened to the infamous Red Death suit?" she asked as they approached a hidden door.

"Were you expecting it?" Erik asked. She nodded a few times.

"I was. Meg told me all about how horrifying the skull mask is and yet how alluring and... attractive he was," she informed him.

"She said that?" He asked. Stunned yet again.

"I may have added the last part in," she looked down to the dark stone floor as she said it, finally unable to meet his curious gaze.

They unlocked the hidden doorway and entered an empty hallway together with their arms interlocked again. It was easy to tell that they were getting closer to the heart of the masquerade as the noise and the people around them gradually increased. At last, they stood atop the grand stairwell, looking down at the crowd of fancy nobles, dancers, and party goers.

"Erik?" Anastasia asked as she noticed him staring off into a distant crowd. She followed his gaze and she spotted a wavy haired brunette dressed in a formal, elegant, white dress. "She's quite beautiful," she commented once she realized he didn't hear her.

"What?" He asked. He turned to her for a second and resumed gazing into the distance with an envious glare. She responded with a heavy sigh.

"Well it seems there's a man with her," she said with a smile. She continued observing them. "He looks familiar," she commented more to herself, "That has to be Raoul. That is Raoul. Oh no..." She turned towards her partner, but realized quickly that he was halfway down the stairwell. She sprinted down the stairs after him, grabbing his arm as she reached him. "Erik," she hissed into his ear, "She married. For three years. There are some bound you just do not cross."

"Why do you care?" He sneered back and she immediately lets go of his arm. An angered and confused expression spread replace her former smile. In a moment, he disappeared into the crowd of black and white.

"Suit yourself," she whispered dejectedly as she fixed her dress; never noticing the sets of eyes closely tailing her every move. She searched around the crowd for Anthony. He was the main reason she was even here, she reminded herself. She found him surrounded by a crowd of doe eyed girls. She slowly approached him.

By the time she reached him, she had his full attention as well as some unwanted attention by the surrounding men. "Anthony," she said in a friendly manner.

"Anastasia?" He asked, trying to hide his surprise. He immediately walked to her side as if he was guarding her from the other men.

"Mind if I have a moment of your time?" she asked.

"Anything for you," he responded.

"Are you enjoying the attention?" she asked once she knew they were out of earshot from the crowd of girls.

"I am," he responded with a bright smile at her. They had their hands interlocked as they tried to escape the crowd of people.

"Where are we going?" Anthony finally asked after being led away from the party.

"To get some fresh air," she responded as she led him up a long flight of stairs.

"Afraid of the crowd?" he teased.

"More than I'd like to admit," she told him as they entered the rooftop. It was a calm clear night outside. No clouds, only the moon and stars were out.

"It's beautiful out here," he noted.

"It's peaceful," she whispered.

"You come here often?"

"Yes," she responded. She left him gazing up into the stars as she went to refrieve a basket hidden behind a statue. He followed soon after. "I thought we should celebrate your success in private," she told him as she uncorked a bottle of champagne.

"You have expensive taste," he remarked after seeing the bottle and the ice inside the basket.

"Champagne and diamonds, what would I do without them?" she said with a wink. They sat comfortably next to each other, leaning against the base of a statue, admiring the night sky. A pair of sad golden eyes watched from a distance, but their banter chased away any fear of preying eyes.

* * *

The Phantom had trailed the merry pair from the moment they left the crowd. He had been so enamored by the sight of his love, Christine, that he failed to notice that Anastasia had left his side. When he spotted her again, she was with that blond haired boy, Anthony. Their hand were intertwined together as she led him away from the crowd.

He had been watching Christine waiting for the right moment to approach her before he spotted Anastasia. He had found the right moment when she was finally alone: away from Raoul, away from the swarm of ballerinas. He hesitated though and the moment vanished. Anastasia's words echoed in his mind, "She's married...there are some bound you just do not cross." Then he saw Anastasia chatting up the blond boy and he followed them. Curiosity got the best of him.

Now he was hiding behind a stone statue, for once he was afraid of being caught and he barely knew why. So far, the pair weren't overly romantic. Definitely not like how Christine and Raoul spent their roof top time. They looked liked friends hanging out, tired of the loud obnoxious party. He thought this thought too quickly because when he took another glance at them, Anastasia had leaned forward too close and kissed Anthony on the lips. She broke it off a second later, but it didn't matter. She had kissed him willingly. The Phantom in him was screaming to be unleashed, yet another part of him reigned his fury in as he descended down the stairs back to the lively masquerade.

He found himself at a bar table, watching Christine once more. His mask hid him well, he had yet to attract any unwanted attention, which didn't mean he didn't attract any other attention.

"Did you see M. Delacroix?" a nobleman asked.

"Haven't seen him out in years. Let alone smiling," another man commented.

"His little brat's the cause of his misery," a drunken noblewomen snared. The first man seemed appalled by her statement, but the other nodded in agreement.

"Poor old man to have such a fortune and then be stuck with a disobedient child," the second man stated. This only encourage the drunken women to continue.

"She was Delacroix's little spitfire, nothing but disrespect that girl. She's the cause of more misery than that old man. None of the young gents were willing to marry knowing that girl was still open," the woman shouted as she swished her empty glass.

"I heard she once kicked a nobleman out of her estate just because he looked the wrong way," another lady said. The Phantom was quick to pick up the years old gossip. He noticed the same red haired lady eyeing the drunken women with daggers. There was hatred and disgust in her eyes.

"How atrocious! There wasn't even an ounce of nobility in her blood." It no longer matter which noble was tossing the insults.

"Must've gotten it from her mother then," the drunken woman sneered. The red haired lady finally left her seat and stalked over to the table full of nobles.

"Have you no heart?! Slandering the dead in this manner," the lady said in a cold, calm manner. Her steely grey eyes glimmered with unforetold danger.

"Slander, woman? Over a hundred nobles witness her tossing out that nobleman," one of the men said in a demeaning tone.

"Then they all need to have their eyes checked," she said evenly with even more vindication, "It appears none of them notice the man groping, sexually harassing, a serving girl. Or perhaps they just didn't care! How noble?" she retorted. The men immediately went silent, the truth was undeniable.

"This coming from her whore!" the drunken woman slurred.

"How dare you?" the red haired lady snared. "Anastasia Delacroix had more heart, more nobility, and more respect than all of you nobles here combined."

"And yet she managed to shame her century old family in a single night because she chose to visit you at the whorehouse," the lady taunted calmly with a gleaming smile. "Perhaps you were her weakness." The girl's face flushed bright red.

"Yes. Perhaps she did make a mistake, a big mistake. Yet that shameful mistake she made helped save my life. She remembered me after so many years; I, the merchant's child. She asked me what happened to my father's business and if I needed any help and now…" She looked the nobles in the eye. "Here I stand. Perhaps without a noble title, but my father's champagne company is now shipping both locally and globally."

"And it all came at a price," the woman insinuated.

"We did nothing but talk that night," the lady stated as she turned away. "Oh, and do you think that after all you've said that she would ever want to marry any of you?" she retorted, having the final say to the heated conversation. Most of the men looked away in embarrassment being caught in the receiving end of the fair lady's upbraid.

The Phantom watched the woman return to her former seat. Her eyes were watchful as if they were searching for something, someone. Their eyes met briefly. Her grey eyes were calculating, analyzing his every move. She wore a black and white dress that barely reached the floor. Her mask was black and white as well. Her auburn hair stood out among her attire as they cascaded down her back. "That was impressive," he complimented as he raised his glass to her.

"Thank you," she responded. Her attention resumed its focus on the crowd of dancing people and the Phantom slipped away from the table into the crowd.

**Author: **End of part 1 of the Masquerade. The night's still young as they say. As always, I'd love to get feedback or just words of encouragement or just hi... **;)**


	24. Chapter 24: Masquerade Part 2

**Author: **Yep, I haven't updated in a wicked long time. Sorry.

**Enjoy!**

_**Back on the Rooftop…**_

"I like you," Anastasia confessed after she broke off the kiss.

"I like you as well," Anthony whispered with a dazed expression.

"You do?" she asked.

"Yes. You're one of the kindest person I've ever met and you have a beautiful voice," he replied with more confidence. "But I've never seen you without a mask." She stared down at the ground and remained quiet. "But I'm sure you're even more beautiful than your voice."

"Or I might just look like a monster underneath this mask," she said in a joking manner, yet she meant every word of it. She exhaled a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. It was now or never.

"May I?" he asked as he reached for her mask. She nodded.

"Just promise me you won't scream and jump off the roof," she told him as he slowly removed her mask. His eyes widened in surprise and horror. Dropping the mask immediately as he scrambled away. She was tempted wear the mask again, but she left it lying on the floor.

"You! That's… real?" he stuttered as he stared at the scaly burns that scorched the top half of her face and the open cuts that tore through the other sides of it.

"It's what you see, isn't it?" she replied.

"What are you?" he asked. She raised her tattooed brow and brought her hand up to her forehead as if to suppress a headache. Then she smiled and let out a melodic laughter.

"A better question is what happened," she lectured as she shook her head despairingly.

"Why did you laugh?" he asked once the initial shock had faded. Anastasia was still smiling.

"You should have seen the expression on your face. It's as if you didn't know me at all," she responded. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I may look like a monster, but I'm not one."

"I'm sorry," Anthony apologized sincerely. "I just didn't expect it, even after your warnings. So what did happen?"

"A curse," she told him as she got up, replaced her mask, and offered him a hand. He reluctantly accepted it as she help him up. "I'm guessing you no longer harbor any romantic feelings towards me?" He looked down to the floor, unable to meet her eye. "As expected," she scoffed. "The night's still young. I'm sure you still have a few cast members to congratulate." She walked off towards the door and he followed.

"So you're not angry?" he asked once they were near the party.

"No," she replied, "You can't force love."

"How do you break the curse?" he asked as he turned to look at her. She gave him an amused glance. Her golden eyes seemed to glisten with mystery as they walked towards a large group of people.

"I'll leave that for you to figure out," she whispered as she left him standing in the crowd. He turned around again to search for her, but she was gone.

**-O-**

Anastasia escaped into a small broom closet. She let out a deep sigh as she calmed down. "Love, it had to be love…" she muttered to herself. "Love is confusing, fleeting, and certainly never worth it!" She got up and dusted off her dress. "What am I even doing here?" she asked herself.

Once she made sure there weren't any footsteps outside, she quickly left the closet. She hesitated, unsure whether she should descend back down to the lonely, dark lair or if she should rejoin the party.

She found herself watching the lively party. Most of the patrons were already drunk. She spotted Anthony and Meg dancing among the rest of the lively black and white couple. The music gradually slowed down, allowing the couples a moment to breathe and embrace each other. She watched as both Anthony and Meg leaned in, holding each other closely, and kissed. She averted her eyes after a while, focusing in on her untouched drink.

"Would you care to dance?" a familiar female voice asked. She looked up from the glass, startled by the question, but she quickly regained her composure by feigning disinterest.

"That would be scandalous," she stated in a patronizing tone as she observed the auburn haired woman dressed in a revealing yet elegant black and white dress. Elizabeth Laurence, her childhood friend. "But now I simply can't say no," she said in a challenging, playful tone. She had nothing to lose so she knelt down dramatically and offered her hand. This caught the attention of several of the surrounding patrons. Elizabeth gracefully accepted and swept her into the circle of half drunken dancers. Their steps were smooth and rhythmic compared to the rest.

"Do you always ask girls to dance?" Anastasia asked as they circled each other with one hand touching. The music quickened and they were together once again.

"Only a few," Elizabeth whispered in her ear, brushing off her question as they spun in a tight circle. The hems of their dresses swirled together creating a glittering black and white spectacle. "Enjoying the party?" she asked in a carefree tone as they swung around again.

"Loving it," Anastasia replied in obvious flattery.

"Truly?" Elizabeth asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Anastasia asked lightly with a smile.

"You're a curious sight," Elizabeth commented.

"Am I?" Anastasia asked as she held her partner closer.

"You came in from the grand staircase with a very handsome man." Anastasia kept her face stoic as they continued to dance. "Yet he left with another girl."

"Oh," was her initial response. "Good for him," she added in with a tight smile.

"Just friends then?" her friend asked without letting her answer as she continued, "You left with another man, the male lead, Anthony, was it? But now he's with another girl as well."

"You've been watching," Anastasia stated as she searched around the ballroom, trying to figure out if she'd miss anything else. Nearly all eyes were on them now.

The music sped up once more and the rhythm of the music transitioned into short quick pulses. The couple didn't miss a single beat as they smoothly adjusted their steps. Their dance had quickly caught the attention of all the attendants even the panting drunken couples that were thrown off beat by the sudden change. Many had backed away to stare at the odd couple, creating a circle for them. It was not unheard of to see two ladies dancing together, but it was rare and often left to the exotic dancers.

The exquisite couple glided effortlessly across the dance floor in a waltz, making usage of the extra room. Anastasia had taken the male role with one hand on her friend's shoulder and the other one leading. She made sure to keep a careful distance from her dance partner for the majority of the dance, not wishing to scandalize the girl anymore. The girl's auburn hair was too distinctive for the nobilities to not recognize her. Her friend on the other hand didn't seem to care as she would sometimes brush her hand against Anastasia's long, dark hair.

They had danced together far longer than Anastasia had originally intended due to their audience. Their breaths were fast, yet they retain an aura of control in their smooth steps. The waltz was coming to an end as the song sped up. Their dresses flourished as they spun around one final time in opposite directions with only one hand touching. When the song came to a close, they curtsied to the audience in unison earning them a wave of claps and cheers. They walked through the crowd together, arms interlocked, towards the exit.

"That was the height of the party,' Anastasia said as she prepared to leave.

"Departing so soon, Anastasia Delacroix," her friend fell into a whispered. Anastasia froze in midstep and was one second too late in regaining her composure.

"Pardon."

"You're a terrible liar, Anastasia. Don't even try," her friend scolded in a friendly manner.

"Then for the sake of our friendship, don't follow please," Anastasia said.

"You don't have to hide, Ana." Elizabeth persuaded in an urgent tone.

"Yes, I do. You haven't seen what I've become," she replied.

"I don't care what you look like. You're my friend," Elizabeth said.

"I do," Anastasia admitted in shame. "I need to look like myself again."

"How do you break the curse?" Elizabeth asked.

"I have to fall in love," Anastasia stated. Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair as if she was thinking.

"That explains a lot." A couple of nobles passed by them on the way out.

"I have to go," Anastasia said abruptly.

"Are you in love with anyone?"

Anastasia paused, "Not really, I mean… no."

"Even after three years," Elizabeth asked with a slight smile as she dragged her troubled friend outside the opera house towards a secluded section of the stairs.

"Love was never my forte," Anastasia stated. They sat together on the huge steps with only the street lamps and opera house to light up the darkness. "Also, it hasn't been three years yet. The curse becomes permanent once three years are up."

"How long do you still have?"

"Fifty seven days."

"What will you do if you don't break the curse?"

"I will break the curse," Anastasia said with more determination then she had. "There's no 'if', I have to break it. I won't remain like this!" She gestured to her face.

"What's wrong with this?" her friend asked, "It's not as if you grew a horn or a tail." She joked, trying to lighten the gloom that had settled. Anastasia's face only darkened with fear.

"The curse doesn't just affect my face. It affects everything," she responded. She removed her black glove revealing the deep scars and burns that disfigured even her hands.

"Does it hurt?" her friend asked with concern.

"No. It's… it's as if they aren't there, but they are," she mumbled. Elizabeth took hold of her hand and examined it, running a gentle finger down the jutting scars.

"It looks so real," she said. Anastasia shrugged. They fell into a peaceful silence.

"Maybe you're going at it all wrong," Elizabeth stated. Anastasia remained quiet. "I mean, you've been trying to force yourself to fall in love with the intent of breaking the curse right?"

"Well, yes," Anastasia replied.

"You should stop trying!" Elizabeth exclaimed.  
"What?!" Anastasia retorted.

"You're never going to fall in love if you're only trying to break the curse. Perhaps, someone does fall for you, but you clearly won't fall for them."

"They'd run away before they even get to know me if I didn't try." Anastasia replied.

"So you never give them a chance."

"I prefer to stay in one piece and not be hunted down. Speaking of which, now that you've found me, what do you intend to do?" Anastasia asked.

"I'll keep Gaston distracted for now. He's very adamant about hunting you,"

"You should stay away from him," Anastasia interrupted. "He's unstable and delusional."

"I can take care of myself," Elizabeth responded indignantly.

"I know. But he has violent outbursts and he tried to kidnap and kill me. So just… speak of the devil…" Anastasia spotted Gaston, approaching them in a fast stride.

"It was lovely talking to you," Elizabeth said, just loud enough for Gaston to hear, as she pulled Anastasia into a hug. "Go. I can handle him," she whispered. Anastasia quickly ascended up the staircase back into the opera house. She watched her friend interact with Gaston in a casual manner and they departed together in a carriage.

The ballroom was still live with drunken patrons and stagehands. The music was still ongoing. But the party was over by her standards, so she descended back down to the lower levels. She had missed the lively atmosphere of the party far more than she would like to admit. She missed her friend; their lively banter, her cheerful mood. She missed her home. The darkness of the opera house was depressing compared to her father's estate.

"Who's she, Erik?" a higher pitch female voice asked, startling Anastasia out of thought. A curly haired brunette was sitting next to Erik on the bench as he played a soft tune that came to an abrupt halt.

"Christine, this is…"

"Call me Anastasia," she interrupted with a disarming, friendly smile. She noticed that Erik was sitting stiffly and his jaw was tense. He was clearly anxious. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Christine." She paused, both eyes were focused on her; one inquisitive and the other one glaring daggers. "Erik and I are merely friends, if you are wondering. Acquaintance is probably a better word," she joked. "I came down here to get away from the crowd, but apparently my presence is most likely unwelcomed."

"Oh no, feel free to stay," Christine said in a welcoming tone. "Erik was just showing me his newest composers. The melodies are very relaxing and soft."

"A tempting offer, but I must decline. Goodnight, Christine, Erik." Anastasia quickly left the cavern. She was surprised by Christine's offer. She was kind, no wonder Erik fell for her. She was also beautiful. She felt a tinge of jealously grip her heart as she wandered the dark interior passages of the opera house. She tried to shake off the feeling by quickening her stride.

**Author:** I probably won't post in a really long time again. I'm going to finish the entire story before I post again, at least I'll try that. I really do hate keeping you guys on cliff hangers. According to my notes and summary, there should only be about 6 chapters left.


	25. Chapter 25: The Dark Future

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** I am super close to the ending and so I have uploaded a new chapter!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Anastasia's Pov**

I slowly allowed light to enter my eyes, blinking a few times. I could feel an aching, throbbing feeling in the back of my head. Dark thick blue curtains blocked out the morning sunlight, keeping the room in relative darkness. The bedroom looked vaguely familiar with a covered mirror and dresser occupying the corner. I pushed myself off the bed and onto unsteady feet. I balance myself with the support of the wall. The wallpaper had an antique floral pattern and the corners were peeling slightly. I felt something weighing my left hand down. Chains. Metal chains shackled my left arm. Looking down to the floor, I saw a pile of metal chains, the end connected to the wall. How did I miss this before?

I immediately tugged on the metal loop embedded in the wall. I tugged, twisted, and pulled with all my strength, but it didn't budge. My heart started to pound with fear. I pressed myself against wall near the door, trying my hardest to detect any sign of sound, any sign of life. I checked the doorknob. It creaked slightly as it turned. I pushed the door out and burst into the next room, hoping to startle my captors.

It was empty. The room was empty and dark. I stood on the second floor of an abandoned building. I walked a few steps to the rusted, dusty railings, and looked down to the lower floor. Once more, this place looked familiar, yet I couldn't quite remember where. My senses were heightened with fear pumping through my blood. I quietly walked towards the staircase. Even with all my effort, I couldn't hide the sound of the creaking floorboards or the jingling of the chain hitting one another. A thick layer of dust covered the entire rug, dulling down its former brilliant emerald green color. How did I know this?

All the windows had been boarded up roughly with wood, some of the nails were jutting out. Every step I took disturbed the age old dust that drifted up into the air. I searched for the entrance of this deteriorating building. It was locked. No matter how much I pushed and pulled, it didn't move. I was locked in.

I continued on walking towards the only open hall. It opened towards a kitchen. Sweat was dripping down my forehead, down my back. I forced myself to check all the cabinets and drawers. All empty. A sharp knife was sitting on the counter. How did I miss it?

I exited the kitchen back into the main hall. There were multiple mahogany doors, each with intricate patterned etched onto them. I tried each of the doors. None of them moved, except the last. I carefully pushed it open, trembling with fear and anticipation. This room was large and unfamiliar. No windows, just a large room with portraits lining the walls leading to a giant painting covered by a black sheet sitting directly ahead of me as if it were a throne. I carefully tread down the blood red carpet as if a force was drawing me towards the hidden painting. As I walked down, I felt that I was being watched. I cast nervous glances at the old grim, tight faced portraits. They didn't move. When I reached the black cover, I hesitated. I delicately traced the folds in the sheet with my hand. I closed my eyes for a second and in one swift motion I pulled back the cover, revealing a giant mirror that nearly reached both ends of the wall.

I saw my mother and little sister standing together in the distance; in the mirror. I turned around to see if they were in the room, but it was empty, except for me. I looked back into the mirror, but they were gone. In their place stood the beast towering over me by at least a foot. I couldn't move. Its blood red eyes stared into mine. It stalked towards me like a predator. I stumbled back and hit the floor. I raised my arm up to protect myself. My hands and arms were no longer human, instead it was that of the beast. Curving black claws and jagged protruding fur. The chains had disappeared entirely, not a single sign of them. The other beast stepped through the mirror, still stalking towards me. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I refused to look at the other beast. I could feel its thick, warm breath breathing down on me. I closed my eyes tight as I felt tears trickle uncontrollably down my face. I remembered this place now. It was my families old vacation house. I had only been here when I was very little and it was actually a very beautiful, lively house. I waited for the beast to strike, but it never came.

Everything vanished and I woke with a start, sweating and panting heavily. I had fallen asleep in one of the opera houses empty rooms. The morning light shone brightly through the sides of the curtain.

* * *

**As Always Read and Review!** New Chapters will be posted soon. I hope to upload the rest before Christmas!


	26. Chapter 26: Reunion

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Erik's Pov**

"Merely friends… merely friends… Acquaintance is probably a better word…" The words echoed in the Phantom's mind. It resounded over and over and over again, jotting him from his restless sleep. She said it so smoothly, so easily. No hesitation. No jealousy.

Erik rolled over in his coffin again. For once, it was suffocating. It used to enveloped him in a confining darkness that eased his restless nights with the thought of a peaceful end. But now he was turning too much in the narrow space. He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. To talk. Or to spy.

The Phantom traversed the dark corridors of the opera house in search of one person. He visited the usual spots that she frequented: the rooftop, the theater, box 5, her hidden room. All empty. Was she gone? He raced down to the stables, fearing the worst.

The horses were sleeping. In the corner, he noticed a new horse; a magnificent, purebred stallion with a radiant white coat. It was in one of the guest stalls further down from the rest of the horses. The stallion's ears pricked alert and it turned to face him.

"Ssshhh…" he whispered to the stallion. The stallion gazed at him with intelligent eyes. He steadily approached the horse. He wanted to figure out who the owner of the fine horse was, however he already had a suspect. He entered the stalled without any trouble. The horse seemingly decided that he, the masked man, was not a threat. The saddle held no indication of the owner other than the fact that the owner of it had to be rich enough to afford a masterwork saddle. He decided to check the horse for any signs of ownership. The horse was white without flaw. He cautiously stroke the stallion's coat. It whinnied in response unafraid of him. Then he lifted up it hoof. Inscribed on the bottom of the silver horseshoe was a fancy, cursive "D".

The stallion belonged to Anastasia Delacroix without a doubt. The horse was still fit and well maintained, which meant she must have been riding it out during the nights. Or she hired someone to take care of it. He quickly left the stables and resumed his search.

Dawn was breaking when he saw a lone figure sleeping face down in a room that should've been empty. Looking through the small mirror window, he noticed the girl was trembling in her sleep. She was covered in a white blanket, but he swore that she was Anastasia. A half-emptied bottle of expensive liquor sat on table. Perhaps she was jealous. A tinge of hope sparked in him.

**-O-**

For hours, he watched her twist and turn in her sleep, until she woke with a start, sweat dripping down her forehead. He wanted desperately to rush into the room to calm her, but he remained the man behind the mirror.

He decided to trail her the entire day. And so he waited and watched patiently in the shadows as she quickly threw on a loose white shirt and black pants. Then she tossed her former dress into the wardrobe. Once she disappeared out the door, he was on her trail. She was a swift walker and she would occasionally disappear out of his sight and into the passageways. However, it was easier to follow her when she used the interior passageways.

She was a busy person, despite the fact that she had no job in the opera house. She wandered casually around the opera house in a zig-zag pattern. She ate her breakfast near the kitchen and then she took a long stroll to the stables, where she groomed and fed the stallion. It was a wonder how he had never noticed the horse before. He had never stalked her for an entire day before this.

The Phantom was panting by the time she settled down in box five. She was watching the morning rehearsals intently. At first, she sat carefree with her legs crossed, staring down at the morning crew. Then she suddenly tensed and became more alert. He noticed that Anthony and Meg had just entered the stage together. Anastasia was scowled slightly, but then it quickly vanished as she sighed.

"Acquaintances are not permitted in Box five," he ordered.

"Pardon?" she asked innocently to the point that he wondered whether or not she remembered what she had said. She glanced at him intently. "Would you like me to leave, oh Phantom?" she asked sarcastically.

"No. You may stay," he stated with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Wonderful!" she explained, "Well… How was your morning?"

"Uneventful," he replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, you look as if you went for a jog," she commented. He glared at her for a split second and then realization hit him.

"What are you implying?" he asked with a scowl.

"That you went for a jog?" she replied too innocently this time.

"You!" he muttered.

"Are a stalker," she finished with one brow raised.

"You led me on that trail…" he muttered more to himself.

"I thought I nearly lost you," she teased with a gleeful smile.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I had a feeling someone was watching, so I decided to wander aimlessly," she replied, "It turns out my instincts are right!"

"How cruel. Perhaps I just wanted to speak to you," he responded indignantly.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," she responded with a reddening blush. "Somehow that escaped my mind…"

"Did it? Too used to running?" he asked.

"It's been too long… what did you wish talk about?" she asked back.

"Yesterday," he replied and caught her eyes wandering away from his.

"Yesterday?" she responded slowly as if there was something he had missed.

"Yesterday down in the lair with Christine," he replied.

"That. What about her?" she asked.

"You could have stayed," he stated.

"You were glaring at me," she responded.

"I wasn't expecting you. I was startled," he defended, "We're not together," he added in quickly.

"Oh," she responded in surprise, "That's… good… But I needed some time alone."

"That's fine. I just wanted you to know," he stated bluntly. Silence fell over them, both looking away. Anastasia focused her attention down on the stage.

"Anthony, you have a visitor," M. Firmin announced. A finely dressed man with graying hair entered the theater.

"Remember me, Anthony?" the visitor asked. Anthony crossed the stage to greet the man. They shook hands.

"Uncle Arthur?!" he asked with a shocked expression. "What are you doing here?"

"I attended last night's opera and noticed you! You have your mother's blue eyes," he commented, "Spectacular performance, just as expected from any FitzRoy."

"Thank you!" Anthony responded with delight.

"Doing well for yourself, boy?" Arthur asked with a bright smile. "How's your mother doing?" Anthony's face tensed.

"You haven't heard? She's gone, last winter," he responded.

"What?! Why did you send word?!" Arthur cried out.

"We couldn't. Father hasn't been the same since then. He lost his job," Anthony said.

"You should've sent word. I would have come," he said.

"You and Father don't along too well," Anthony replied.

"I missed my 'lil sister's funeral," he said with his eyes starting to water.

"I'm sorry," Anthony said.

"How is your sister doing?" Arthur asked.

"She's been sick," he replied.

"With what?"

"No one knows."

"We'll get her the best doctor in all of Europe," Arthur stated.

"It's alright, she already has a good doctor diagnosing her," Anthony replied.

"We really need to catch up," Arthur said.

"After practice then?" Anthony asked.

"After practice."

"Monsieur FitzRoy, you may wait here if you wish," M. Firmin offered. M. FitzRoy took a seat in the audience. Anastasia watched their interaction intently.

"That's unexpected. FitzRoy. M. FitzRoy is his uncle. He's an extremely wealthy nobleman. His family could almost rival my father," Anastasia commented.

**-O-**

_**A few hours later...**_

"Talk about stalking," Erik commented as they watched Anthony and Meg dining with Arthur in the opera house cafe.

"I believe we are both guilty of it," Anastasia replied, "No wonder I am so jumpy."

"Scared of being caught?"

"A little," she replied. "Shhhh…" They watched from behind another large mirror.

"You should come join me at my manor, you are always welcome at my house!" Arthur offered.

"Thank you, but I need my job here," Anthony replied. "And…" He gently took hold of Meg's hand.

"By all means she is welcomed to join!" Arthur stated with twinkling eyes. "I can teach you how to run your own business or you may join the local theater!"

"I'll think about it," Anthony responded.

"My offer is always open, I can also get you a house of your own out of the slums."

"Thank you for the offers!" Anthony replied.

"Where is your sister?" Arthur asked.

"She is staying at a room here."

"Really?"

"The manager's were kind enough to allow her to stay here, where it's warmer."

"I would like to see her," Anthony stated. They quickly gathered up their dishes and left.

**Read and Review! :D**


	27. Chapter 27: The Illness

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** Here's another Chapter! Hopefully, I'll be posting a few chapters each day now that I'm nearly finished! I can't wait to finish the story.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Nadir asked a pacing Anastasia.

"I believe she contracted malaria," Anastasia replied, "but…"

"How are you so certain?" Nadir interrupted.

"She's tired, fatigues easily. She's extremely pale. You stated in your journal that her heart sometimes races and she becomes short of breath real easily. She had a fever and she says her head hurts sometimes. " Anastasia listed on her fingers, "That covers the symptoms. I believe it's worth a shot despite the risks."

"We already covered that part…" Nadir responded.

"I wasn't finished yet! I believe that she also has anemia and perhaps a heart problem," Anastasia diagnosed.

"Anemia and a heart problem… that does make sense why she's always fatigued," Nadir stated.

"I wrote down blood loss because that's what her symptoms indicated and so I did some research and noticed that since she stayed at the opera house her condition has remained stable. Therefore, before she must have been malnutritioned and she wasn't getting enough iron that can be obtained from meats and certain vegetables," she stated.

"I believe your theory is worth a shot. I'll start her on a small dose of quinine and closely monitor her conditions," Nadir replied.

"Good… the sooner the better…" Anastasia mumbled.

"Why the long face?" Nadir asked kindly.

"This may sound crude, but she's the only reason he's still here…" she sighed.

"I'm sure you'll be able to keep in contact," Nadir replied.

"I have to go, farewell." Anastasia quickly departed, leaving Nadir alone to tell Anthony and M. FitzRoy the diagnoses.

**-O-**

_**Later that Day…**_

Anastasia paced back and forth reading her journal entries. She read and reread her notes on Cecilia's conditions. She couldn't help but wonder and worry whether or not her diagnosis was correct. Nadir agreed. But she was still hesitant. She decided that the best thing to do was to monitor Cecilia in person.

"I am sure the witch is here!" a man stated and Anastasia halted in mid stride, eager to hear more.

"What if she's not a witch?" a lady asked.

"Why are protecting her?" the man barked in a low tone.

"I am just speculating, something you should do more often!" the lady chided. Anastasia hurried on, but she couldn't help but worry at how close the man was to finding her. Only her friend, Elizabeth, stood between them. She didn't want her to be hurt in the crossfire. She despised hiding. She continued on past them towards Cecilia's room.

Cecilia was shivering in her sleep and she had kicked off one of her many blankets, exposing her to the cold opera house. Anastasia was caught off guard when she saw. A part of her wanted to grab a few more blankets for the girl. But then again, she had never met the girl in person. The sun had set early so the room was already darkened. She was certain the girl would not wake and so she left for more blankets.

When she came back, she sneaked into the dark room through the mirror with extra blankets for the girl. She gently covered the girl with the extra blankets and then just as quickly she retraced her steps back to the mirror door.

"Who are you?" a young voice asked without fear.

"I'm… I'm just a friend," Anastasia replied back with hesitation.

"Thank you for the blankets," the girl said.

"You're very welcome!" Anastasia whispered back, caught off guard.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"Ana," Anastasia replied.

"I'm Cecilia."

"It's nice to meet you. I have to go now," Anastasia stated.

"Wait, please stay," Cecilia pleaded. When she noticed Anastasia's hesitation, she continued, "It's gets really boring and lonely here sometimes and it's barely evening!"

"I really shouldn't be here. I thought you might be freezing here so I brought you some blankets," Anastasia responded.

"Please at least tell me a story!" the girl pleaded.

"Just one. What would you like to hear?", Anastasia asked.

"Any fairy tales will do!" the girl said.

"Alright, hold on let me think… aha… I got one…" Anastasia started as she sat down on the girl's bed. "Once upon a time, there was a little mouse. He was a skinny little mouse compared to his brothers and sisters for he was a very picky eater."

"Do you mind turning on the lamp?" Cecilia interrupted.

"I would prefer to not be seen," Anastasia replied back kindly.

"Why?"

"I am not very beautiful anymore," Anastasia said, picking her words carefully, "I don't want to scare you with my… battle scars."

"A lady with battle scars?" Cecilia asked inquisitively.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Anastasia replied back softly.

"I promise I won't judge!" Cecilia promised.

"I wear a mask to hide them," Anastasia said.

"I promise I won't be scared!" Cecilia promised again.

"Promise you won't tell anyone you saw me?" Anastasia asked, "Cross your heart and bet your next lunch on it?"

"That's hard bargain you drive," Cecilia replied sarcastically and pretended to think, "I promise and cross my heart and my lunch on it!"

"Good," Anastasia said as she proceeded to turn on the lamp slowly.

"You have very beautiful hair," Cecilia praised.

"Thank you, your too kind."

"Your mask is very well decorated. It's very elegant. A few designs and sparkles here and there."

"I try."

"You needn't hide behind a mask. I won't be afraid of you!" Cecilia said. Anastasia tilted her head in response.

"You have a silver tongue dear girl. But I won't take off my mask," Anastasia complimented with a raised brow under her mask.

"You're wearing gloves as well. It that to hide your scars as well?" Cecilia asked.

"They are," Anastasia responded.

"May I see them?" the inquisitive girl asked. Anastasia sighed.

"Alright, you win," Anastasia replied as she gradually took one glove off. Cecilia stared intently at her hand and continued staring intently after the glove was removed. "Well… no comment?"

"There's… there's nothing there…" Cecilia replied with a question.

"Yes. There is," Anastasia stated.

"No. There isn't!" Cecilia stated back with pouted lips.

"Yes. There is!" Anastasia stated back just as adamantly.

"You're trying to trick me, aren't you!" Cecilia said.

"I promise, I am not!" Anastasia said indignantly as she flipped her hand around inspecting burnt and scarred hand.

"I don't see any scars…" Cecilia said in a bored manner.

"You're the first," Anastasia said, "It's a curse, even I see it!"

"A curse?" Cecilia asked.

"Yes, a few years ago I got cursed so that people only see me as a burnt and scarred up beast instead of myself," Anastasia replied.

"May I see your face then?" the girl asked. Anastasia's eyes narrowed and contemplated whether or not she should reveal herself. "Please, pretty please!"

"No screaming, please," Anastasia said.

"Promise!" Cecilia quickly responded. Anastasia slowly took off her mask for the girl to see and waited for her reaction, "Woah, you're beautiful!" she complimented in surprise.

"You're not lying?" Anastasia asked.

"I'm not lying. I don't understand why you hide behind a mask!" the girl stated bluntly, no longer whispering.

"Shhhh..."

"You must be Anthony's secret tutor!" the girl whispered, "It's true isn't it?"

"Yes," Anastasia reluctantly admitted.

"Anthony is always wondering what you look like!"

"Oh," Anastasia said.

"I have to tell him," Cecilia said.

"No, you promised to keep this a secret," Anastasia said. Footsteps started to approach the room. "I have to go," she whispered as she quickly blew out the lamp and left, leaving the girl no time to respond. She watched as Anthony entered the room. The Cecilia kept her promise and so she quickly left the area, startled by her new discovery.

**-O-**

She rushed out so fast that she rammed head first into a wall that wasn't supposed to be there. "Ouch," she muttered as she toppled onto the fallen wall.

"Watch where you're running!" the Phantom jabbed.

"I am so sorry! Here let me help you up!" Anastasia apologized and offered before she was up. The phantom grunted sarcastically in response. Anastasia had to push herself off of the Phantom because of the tight space.

"Perhaps I should strangle you right now for this insolence!" the Phantom growl menacingly and grabbed her back down with her back against him.

"Watch the hair!" Anastasia said.

"Oh, do I sense a weakness?" the Phantom taunted with a chuckle.

"Eh, no," Anastasia snipped back in response. The Phantom was still holding her down tightly, just loose enough to breathe.

"So what do you say?" the Phantom asked.

"I'm sorry?" Anastasia replied. No response. "What?! I am SINCERELY SORRY!"

"That no way to apologize!" the Phantom chided. Anastasia sighed and remained quiet.

"I already said sorry…" Anastasia muttered annoyed. The Phantom was still holding her down. "I can wait here forever!" Anastasia taunted and then immediately regretted it as his arms tightened around her. "Ugh!"

"That's a very unladylike sound," the Phantom scolded only to get three more in response, each getting louder.

"Alright, I give up!" Anastasia stated in a disgruntled whisper.

"Now who is the kindest and most forgiving Phantom around here?" the Phantom asked.

"You are," Anastasia stated in a sweat tone. "I am super sorry for crashing into you!" The Phantom immediately release her and allowed her up. "I had my finger's crossed!" Anastasia said with a smirk, her eyes glowing bright yellow in the dark. "Haha!" She immediately ran off without helping the Phantom up.

**Read and Review to make me :D or not... haha...**


	28. Chapter 28: The Search

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Not even the DVD... haha... who owns those now-a-days... We got Netflix. Yes, torrenting is **ba**aaaa**d**.

**Author:** Woooohooo... I'm uploading these pretty fast. Though **mind the errors**, I don't have the time to reread multiple times because I'm on a killing (writing) spree. I'm **unsure whether I should upload this fast**... less readers, no edits **O_o**. Oh well... not my lost if this **story gets lost** underneath the **other wonderful fanfictions**.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**3rd Person Pov**

Erik woke to the sound of splashing. He quickly ran out of his room only to spot Anastasia swimming back to shore. "Did someone trip again? And fall into the water this early in the morning?" Erik teased the girl.

"I never tripped," Anastasia stated indignantly. "I crashed," she muttered.

"Would you like some help?" he emphasized the "help".

"Oh, someone is being a gentleman at last," Anastasia stated.

"Some one here is still being rude," he scolded with a raised brow.

"Nobility, right?" she stated sarcastically.

"Precisely!" he agreed with too much glee as he offered her a hand up.

"Ouchy, you weren't supposed to agree, oh gentleman!" she said with an mischief twinkle in her eyes. She took hold of his and in one swift motion she pulled him in.

"You! Always… ugh!" Erik cried out.

"That's what you get for teasing me yesterday and today!" she responded. He splashed a huge wave of water at her. "Watch it!"

"Wasn't expecting that, were you!" Too late and an even larger wave came splashing down at him. They splashed each other back and forth. Both panting and soaked in water.

"Truce!" Anastasia called out just as another wave hit her, "White flag!"

"Oh no you don't!" Erik stated as he tackled her into the water, both tumbling under. A few seconds later, they both rose to catch their breathe. Anastasia was wide eyed when she saw Erik. His phantom mask floated towards her. She gently took hold of it.

"Here," she said as she handed him his mask.

"You did this!" he shouted as he splashed one final angry splash of water into Anastasia's eyes. "You! How could you!" He stormed out of the lake as he replaced his mask, "You set this up!"

"I did not! I didn't know!" Anastasia defended as she ran after him, "Please Erik, it's fine!" He slammed his door shut, locking her out. "Please Erik! It's not that bad!"

"Leave!" he shouted backed.

"Please, I swear I didn't mean it!" she said as she knocked on his door. "Please come out…" He remained silent inside his room. "I look a thousand times worse than you! You've seen me, you know! Please come out!" No response.

Anastasia waited outside for Erik. Hoping to catch him whenever he decided to leave. "I'm still here, Erik," she mumbled as she leaned down and sat against the wall. She was starting to shiver when he finally opened his door.

"You're still here," Erik whispered, astonished.

"Of course I am!" she stated, "I know you, why would I leave?"

"Erik looks like a monster," Erik stated.

"Well, tell Erik, that he doesn't know what a monster looks like, nor what a monster is," Anastasia informed him, mimicking his speech, "You aren't a monster, Erik."

"Thank you," Erik said, staring longingly at Anastasia.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked him.

"Yes."

"Good." They looked into each others eyes and smiled.

"What were you doing in the lake in the first place?" he asked.

"I was searching for my mother's pendant. I've lost it for a while," she said.

"What does it look like?" he asked.

"It's a red gem with a dragon encircling it. It's her family heirloom for many generation."

"When did you lose it?"

"I lost it a long time ago actually, but I know I lost it here. At least, I lost it after I became a beast. It must have ripped off," she responded.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked.

"I barely knew you back then and I didn't notice it gone for a while," she responded.

"I'll help you search for it! We'll find it eventually!" he stated.

"I can't leave without it," she said with a sad look.

"Leave?" he asked.

"I told you I'd be out of your hair in less than sixty days, didn't I?" she said.

"You can stay!" he said more desperately than intended.

"Thank you…" she mumbled and then sneezed.

"Come, you need to dry off," he commanded. They ended their conversation as they departed to their rooms.

* * *

**Erik's Pov**

She didn't run. She stayed. I wasn't expecting that. She returned my mask without commenting. I wasn't expecting that. But she's leaving, leaving so soon. I couldn't believe it. She was leaving in less than sixty days. I couldn't force her to stay. I didn't want to force her to stay. I needed, no wanted her to stay. A part of me wouldn't ever allow me to force her to stay. If she wanted freedom, then she would get it. But it hurt. It hurt Erik.

I needed to convince her to stay, but how? She seemed desperate to leave. I could see the longing in her eyes. Why?

* * *

**Anastasia's Pov**

His face was etched in my mind. In all my years, I had yet to see someone so badly disfigured as him. I never attended circuses because they were supposedly dangerous and a waste of noble time. My father never allowed me to attend them. He stated that it was cruel to treat people so low. To show off disfigured people like animals in a cage. His disfigurement, when juxtaposed with his perfect left side, was worsened. It wouldn't have been so bad if his left side wasn't so finely chiseled to near perfection.

I noticed how sad he looked when I told him I was leaving, but I knew I had to leave once my time was up. I wasn't going home either. If my dream was true, then once the time was up, I'd become a fully fledge beast. I would most likely lose control of my mind. I would be a danger to all of them. I needed to figure out a plan of action fast. I refused to place others in danger for my own sake.

* * *

**Author:** Pretty please **Read and Review!** This story will be over very soon, probably before Christmas! I mean who reads on Christmas, so at the eve **:D Hopefully, no promises about the eve. The end is rough and tough to write. **Thirty-two chapters total! **Four chapters to go!** Still writing the last chapter!


	29. Chapter 29: Goodbye

**Disclaimer:** The original **The Phantom of the Opera was written by Gaston Leroux**. It is a wonderful book and not romancy at all actually. At least not my type of romance, stalker_*cough*_ Very messed up_*cough*_. More like a journal/mystery story. Well, that's how I convinced myself to read it. But it's a wonderful book with an intriguing narrative style. Btw, yeah, I did end up reading fanfics first because I got confused with why the story was a classic, a romantic play, and also a slasher film. So I was like _*grah (my substitute for swears)*_ and I decided to read the book instead. **Highly Recommended to read the book!**

**Author: **Btw, I've been **uploading a series of chapters in a very short span of time** and I noticed that some **readers may have skipped some chapters.** My story hopefully still makes sense for those of you readers, who accidentally missed the former chapters. Go read them or read these spoilers.

**Bold = Important Notice **(ignore the rest for those who do not care for comments **(**Yes, I may be guilty of skipping headings, so I do not expect everyone to read unimportant parts**) :P**)

At **Tie-Dyed Broadway**: **Enjoy!** I love comments because they are nice to read! Thank you! I would write a heart, but they get broken. (Get it! Fanfic ends up breaking them... by taking out the symbol) **:P**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Two weeks later…**

The last Orpheus and Euridice opera came to a close. The crowd stood and gave one final standing applause.

"We did it!" Meg cried out to Anthony as she ran towards him backstage.

"Of course we did!" Anthony cried back.

"You're famous now! The opera house is back in business!" M. Firmin shouted, "Auditions are lining up! The Phantom curse is over!"

"Careful…" M. Moncharmin whispered.

"I wish you two the best of luck at Orleans!" M. Firmin stated.

"We'll be back!" Meg said.

"Of course and we'll always have a spot open for the both of you!" M. Moncharmin stated.

"Monsieur your carriage awaits your departure!" a servant boy announced.

"Thank you!" Anthony responded, "We need to grab our luggage."

"Show the way and I'll carry it for ya'" the servant said. Sad eyes watched them from the catwalk. She followed as they departed to their rooms. Meg, Anthony, and Cecilia walked together towards the carriage. He forgot his promise to meet up with her before the performance. She left.

"Hold on, I need to do something," Anthony said when they were close to the entrance.

"Where are you going?" Meg asked.

"I need to go to the rooftop," Anthony said. A man past him just as he said it and halted.

"What for?"

"To meet a friend," he replied. The man was gone.

**-O-**

_**The Rooftop…**_

A lone figure stood near the ledge and stared off into the distance. Then she looked down. He broke his promise and so she'd never see him again because when he comes back, she be long gone. Her curse would become permanent. She would leave early to protect them all from herself. She held her withering rose in her hand. The door creaked open and shut. Her heart raced, but she kept her gaze on the horizon.

"I finally found you!" a man shouted. He aimed his revolver at the figure dressed in a white top and black pants.

"Who are you?" she asked without turning around. She heard the clicking of the gun.

"I should be the asking the questions," the man stated wildly, "I finally found you witch! I spent years searching! You've no where to run!" She turned around. **Bam! Bam!** The shots rang out throughout the opera house and the figure fell to the floor. Red quickly soaked and spread through her white shirt.

"You…" she muttered as she felt blood drip out down her hands. Her body trembled, trying desperately to become a beast, yet she refused. Her entire body shook and quivered in agony. The rose was soaked in her blood and withered to brown. Footsteps treaded towards her. She is unable to escape without wavering. The beast inside desired to live, to survive, to fight. The man howled a shrill laugh.

"It seems you've weakened in the years, Beast!" the man taunted as he kicked her over. She cried out and wrung in pain as she tried to dodge the second incoming blow. "You've costed me far too much over the years. You disgraced me! My family, my friends! They abandoned me because of you! And worse of all, you killed my men!" he sneered and nudged the gasping beast with his boot. "I will make you suffer a hundred times the pain you've caused me! You'll be begging for death!" he whispered fiercely in her ear as he ripped off her mask. **Boom!** The door immediately burst open with M. Delacroix in the lead ahead of the managers.

"What the hell are you doing?" M. Delacroix cried out in shock. Puddles of crimson blood was splattered across the rooftop. "Gaston, is that you!?"

"See here! This is your witch! And I'm teaching her a lesson!" Gaston responds, while approaching M. Delacroix.

Anastasia's vision blurred. A familiar voice rang in her ear and she attempted to stay awake. But the pain was overbearing. She struggled to keep her eyes from shutting. However when she spotted her standing on the rooftop, her heart raced and was gripped with fear.

"This is not justice, nor is it your place to deal it!" M. Delacroix shouted. The wild man approached him. "Stand down," he ordered calmly.

"No. I don't think I will," Gaston stated angrily.

"This is no longer your concern!"

"Oh, this is very much my concern! This beast slaughtered my men!" Gaston shouted.

"I am ordering you to leave this instance!" M. Delacroix ordered.

"Who are you to order me around!"

"I am the Marquis of Champagne, if you have forgotten."

"Ah, yes. Because of you, my family disinherited me. I've lost everything!" Gaston sneered as he toys with his revolver. "I remember you! You let her escape!"

"Don't do this," M. Delacroix commanded calmly.

"I've nothing left to lose."

"There are worse fates than yours."

"No! There isn't! I'm a pariah!" Gaston bellowed angrily. Unknown to him, the gunshot attracted a crowd inside the doorway.

"You got off lightly for your offense at my house to my guest!"

"A guest? The witch! No!" Gaston scoffed.

"She was under my protections."

"I doubt it! You were working with her. What did she tempt you with?"

"Have you gone mad?" M. Delacroix inquired.

"No. But you are!" Gaston cocked his revolver and aimed it directly at the man in front of him.

"What are you doing?" M. Delacroix asked suspiciously.

"I believe you've gone too far. You'll let her free and I can't allow that! I should finish the work completely, shouldn't I?!" Gaston said calmly.

"If you do this, your life is over."

"My life is already over. I got no inheritance. Nobility hate me. My family hates me. There's nothing to lose. I'm bringing justice to the world." Gaston stated. Anastasia struggled to contain the beast inside, but her ears pick up his last lines. **Bam!**

Far below in the tunnels, the Phantom attempted to run faster towards the rooftop. The smoke cleared. M. Delacroix was gone and nowhere in sight.

"No one harms my family!" a deep broken voice howled. She struck Gaston from behind and teared his shoulder, forcing his gun out of his hands. It skidded a few feet away and he crawled desperately towards it. But it was too late. The beast grabbed his neck and lifted him off the ground.

M. Delacroix turned pale at the sight of the jagged, monstrous beast that proceeded to lift Gaston towards the ledge.

"Stop! This isn't justice, Ana," M. Delacroix pleaded. "Don't become the beast. Let the court deal the justice! Please Ana! This isn't you!" Blood spilled out from the beast's wounds. It lifted the man over the ledge. Gaston gripped tightly on the beast's hand in fear. "Ana don't." Instead it strangled its prey until he face turned pale and then tossed the undeserving man back onto the rooftop. A figure from inside bursts out and seized the revolver.

"Don't move!" Anthony cried out as he aimed the gun at the bleeding beast.

"Hold, don't shoot, boy," M. Delacroix ordered with authority. The beast struggled to take another painful step towards M. Delacroix. Anthony tensed up immediately. "Lower your gun."

"But… but that monster," he stuttered, clearly frightened by the sight. The beast continued to approach M. Delacroix. Slowly, it fur receded, transforming back into a more human form. It dragged its steps in sighs of pain. "What's happening?"

"Father, I'm so sorry…" she whispered as she attempts to take something out of her pocket.

"Shhh… don't move," M. Delacroix said. "Everything will be alright." She handed him a bloodied envelope.

"Read it," she said and started to shut her eyes. The sky suddenly darkened as the crushed rose, soaked in blood shriveled up.

"No. no. no no no. Stay with me," the nobleman sobbed as he held his beastly daughter in his arms. "Don't go. Please don't go…" He repeated over and over again.

"Anthony you need to break her spell fast!" an approaching lady stated.

"Elizabeth!" M. Delacroix shouted, "What spell?"

"Anthony, she's in love with you. You need to break it!" Elizabeth pleaded fiercely. The phantom watches from the corner. His heart throbbed with sadness. He saw the wilted formerly sparkling rose on the ground. Anastasia was dying and so was the rose.

"Please Anastasia, you must come back," he muttered from the shadow.

"Just say you love her, Anthony! Please!" Elizabeth begged with tears trailing down her face.

"I can't. It won't be real. I'm in love with Meg," he stated somberly.

"Just say it!" the deliriously lady shouted, "Just say…"

_**"I'm in love with you Anastasia Delacroix."**_

A bright light flashed across the sky. A few sparkles flew off the wilted rose and transferred to the beast. As it touched the beast, golden glitter shone bright. Too bright to see. White was all they saw and then it receded just as quickly. Golden dust swept away from the beast, leaving an unblemished but unconscious body of a girl in its place.

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**Author:** Last chapter of the day! Two Chapters tomorrow and then the final on the Eve! (Then its editing everything time! No, I won't delete the entire thing. That's for full makeovers, lol.) **:P Read** and **Review!**


	30. Chapter 30: The Wait

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**3rd Person Pov**

The Phantom watched as Elizabeth draped another thin blanket over Anastasia's shivering body. She was out for nearly three days already. Throughout the time, her friend barely left her side. The Phantom was unsure of how the spell was broken. He knew he confessed his love at the last moment, but he could swear that someone else did too. Judging by how the lady took care of Anastasia, he knew that she deeply cared for her.

"You should take a break now, she's not going anywhere any time soon," M. Delacroix stated.  
"The same could be said about you, monsieur," the lady retorted.

"You've been waiting here longer, you should get some lunch," the man replied.

"We should both grab a quick lunch and head back here," she said. He agreed and they left her alone. Erik quickly entered the room and placed a jewel case beneath her pillow. He swore that she stirred for a moment. But he heard footsteps coming back and so he quickly departed back into hiding.

"Anastasia, you're finally awake!" Elizabeth shouted.

"What?!" the sleeping girl mumbled.

"You've been out for three whole days!" the lady replied.

"Really?!"

"I wouldn't lie about it. How are you feeling? Do you need some food? Here eat this!" Elizabeth rapidly said, forgetting that the food was supposed to be for herself.

"Thanks," Anastasia said as she accepted the plate. "Would you like the other half?" Anastasia asked right when she swallowed. Her friend gladly accepted and they ate in silence.

"Ana, you're finally awake!" M. Delacroix stated as he entered the room.

"Good morning!" she responded.

"It's evening."

"Oh," she replied as she gobbled down her food. Erik stared from behind the mirror, happy for her but he couldn't help but feel helpless and alone again.

"You should return home to recover, Ana. I won't take no for an answer now," M. Delacroix commanded in his most authoritative tone.

"Yes, father," Anastasia mumbled.

"I'll have a comfortable carriage arranged by three," he stated. Anastasia simply nodded, agreeing to his demands. "I'll be right back." Erik disappeared as well.

"Anastasia, I was so afraid for you! I didn't believe Gaston would try to murder you and your father like that," Elizabeth stated, "I am sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Anastasia replied, "You tried your best to find me. That's all that matters!"

"Are you up for the trip?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I'll survive, my father wants me back. It's probably best that I recover back home. One of his horses is currently at the stables," she said.

"I know, that's how I found you," Elizabeth said.

"How is your business doing now?" Anastasia asked.

"Better than ever, but I believe you need to get some rest before you start dealing with business stress again," Elizabeth deterred the conversation. They talked for hours into late afternoon. The Phantom was the silent observer. He watched them banter, laugh, and embrace each other in an overtly friendly manner. He had an irritating feeling that the lady had also proclaimed her love accidently. He ensured that he'd be the carriage driver by offering his services early.

* * *

**Erik's Pov**

I turned back and took a glance through the window and saw Anastasia fast asleep on Elizabeth's shoulder. I focused back on the road. Just earlier, her friend had scolded for running off without asking for any help and Anastasia took the blows with a smile, a brilliant noble smile.

She was a lot more talkative and cheerful with her friend around. Her father was also in the carriage smiling cheerfully at them. I had a sinking feeling. She was happy now with her friend and father, but I was alone again.

The scenery started to change into green plains with cattle. The air was refreshing and clean compared to the city. A castle stood in the distance. It grew into a magnificent, vast castle with a gated entrance. Draped on the entrance were banners of France and the Delacroix symbol of the cross. The sight nearly took my breath away. The gates gradually opened up for the carriage to enter once the carriage was checked by guards.

I stopped the carriage at the main entrance to the castle and opened the door for them to exit. I hid my mask by turning away. Guards helped them out of the carriage and I was tossed a bag of heavy coins. He settled the carriage at the stables, allowing the horse a break before their departure. He stayed by the carriage and then departed without investigating the castle for once.

* * *

**Anastasia's Pov**

For the first time in days, I finally had some time to myself. It was lovely that everyone was greeting me again. Nobles, friends, and distant relatives travelled from afar to greet me once more. A grand party was going to be thrown in my honor in three days.

I retrieved the box that I found under my pillow at the opera house. I had yet to open the box for it was neatly wrapped. I didn't know whether I should open it or not, unsure of its contents. I gradually removed the ribbon and opened it. I couldn't believe it. It was my mother's necklace. He returned it. I was going to go back to search for it, but now there was no need. I remembered when I told him that I couldn't leave until I found it. I remembered the sad look in his blue, gold eyes. It was as if he was saying goodbye. I was free.

But nothing changed. I wasn't truly free. It was as if I was trading one pretty cage for another. Social binds or pariah. What if I wanted the freedom of both? What if I enjoyed crossing over whenever I chose?

Perhaps for once I could finally negotiate with my father without running. Perhaps for once, I could chase my dreams of exploration without wandering alone. I had my mind set. I struggled out of my bed. I hesitated on whether I should use the cane they brought for me. I was still weak from the fight and I had a scar to show for it. The bullet came close to my heart, but somehow it healed right after I transformed back or so my friend told me. I had the first scar as well. A nasty gash near my collarbone. The skin around it was ugly and burnt up. But the scars I gave myself while in beast form were gone. No longer tarnishing my skin. Many years ago, I would have cared deeply about my new scars, but now I am resigned to them. They told a story, my story.

I picked up my cane and slowly walked towards my father's office. I was greeted by my former puppy turned great dane. He pounced around and begged me to play with him. The tiny cute puppy had turned into a giant. He was be a great traveling companions in the days to come.

"Anastasia, what are you doing up so early?" my father asked.

"I couldn't rest anymore. I'm tired of resting."

"You aren't fully healed yet! You're still struggling to walk," he scolded.

"Father, I'm not a child anymore. And staying pent up in my room doesn't help me recover," I retorted.

"Fine, fine. You should get some food. You're all bones now," he said as he ordered servants to bring in food.

"I want to see the world, father!" I stated.

"What?" he asked.

"I came here to tell you that I wish to travel the world before I die," I said.

"You still have many years to go," my father replied startled.

"But I nearly died, I wish to see Rome, London, Russia, New York, before I go," I told him adamantly.

"And how are you going to fund your trips?" my father asked with a raised brow.

"With the money I saved up and invested," I replied calmly with a smirk.

"Clever girl. That's my girl. It seems that not all your tutoring were lost to you," he replied with an even bigger smile.

"I was listening!" I defended.

"Like mother, like child. Never acknowledging the compliments!" he sighed.

"Thank you, father!"

"But you must promise to write letters every week and have proper protection and guards during your travels and you must promise to return home at least once a year!" he stated.

"I can't promise all of that, but I promise I'll try my best," I said.

"Sneaky girl," he replied, "You must promise to at least write to me or else I'm locking you up!"

"Fine, fine, Father! That unfair, but I promise to write to you!" I swore this time.

"That'da girl! And you must send me a copy of your plans before you depart or else I'm shutting the gates and passages this time!" he threatened.

"I promise…" I muttered. My father always had the upper hand in arguments and agreements. It was pointless to argue or else hours could be lost and he wouldn't budge an inch. For the rest of the day, I sat in my corner of his office working on my plans.

**Read and Review!**


	31. Chapter 31: The Party

**Disclaimer: **As always, I own no rights to the Phantom of the Opera.

**Author: **Second to last chapter! Hope you guys have enjoyed the story. The last chapter will be posted tomorrow! A great big thanks to those who have read, reviewed, Favorited, or followed this story. It makes me smile just knowing that people have read this story that I started out writing so that I could improve my writing skills and so that would have a story to create a graphic novel off of. Perhaps one day I'll turn this story into a graphic novel :D and publish the novel, but I'll always keep this story up!

Also, I created a Cover for this story with Adobe Fireworks. I put multiple images together and then added different lightings to it. The **Awesome werewolf** was drawn by **TsimmerS **on DeviantArt! I borrowed it... so thank you in advance!

Another thanks to **Tie-Die Broadway** for reviewing these past few chapters! :D

**Enjoy!**

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**3rd Person Pov**

"It's lovely to see you, Anastasia!"

"We've missed you so much! I can not believe you were cursed!"  
"What a tragedy with Gaston. He was a handsome man with a incorrigible temper! Thank God he's locked up now!"

"It's been too many years, Ana. How have you been? Would you like to dance?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe I'm up for it," Anastasia excused herself from the party and the crowd.

"Don't wander too far, you don't want to get cursed again!" the man shouted after her, but she had learned how to disappear into crowds too well already. She was gone. She sneaked out the back door once more. She was getting sweaty inside with all the heat. She was used to the cold opera house lair. She was still wondering how her curse broke. She barely remembered what happened. She remembered turning. She remembered fighting Gaston. But she remembered nothing afterwards. She absentmindedly wandered back to her old family wishing well.

Staring into the water, she saw her dim reflection in the fountain. She had lost much weight since the her disappearance. Her cheeks were no longer full. Her father was right about needing to eat more.

"I see you're still hiding out," a voice interrupted. Anastasia turned and saw the beautiful, white enchantress standing behind her.

"You again! What are you doing here?" Anastasia asked.

"You know the reason," the enchantress said, "You're still wishing for an answer."

"I don't understand," Anastasia said, "What happened?"

"You broke the curse. What more is there to say?" the enchantress responded.

"But how did I break the curse?" Anastasia asked.

"You learned to love and be loved back," the enchantress responded.

"But who?" Anastasia begged for more answers.

"You know who," the enchantress responded.

"I don't remember what happened," she said desperately.

"You are begging for knowledge your heart already knows, child. You barely learned a thing," the enchantress scolded.

"But there must be more to life than learning to love. Listening to commands," Anastasia stated. The enchantress simply watched the girl carefully with careful, knowing eyes. "I do have hopes and dreams, aren't I allowed to chase them?"

"Of course you are my dear girl!" the enchantress responded in delight.

"Then why transform me into a beast?!" Anastasia asked.

"Let me ask you this, were you chasing your dreams?"

"I…"

"I must leave now," the enchantress stated as she walked towards the moonlight.

"Wait, who are you?" Anastasia called after her. But she had vanished into the light. The

enchantress appeared so familiar that Anastasia was left wide eyed as she remembered. How did she not realize sooner. How did she not recognize her? "Come back please!"

_**"I'll always be watching over you…"**_

_**"Don't be afraid to follow your dreams, love."**_

"Please come back…" Anastasia whispered at the moonlight as she clutched her mother's pendant.

**Read and Review! (Now's the best time to review because the last chapter will be up tomorrow, I promise!)**


	32. Chapter 32: Caught

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.

**Author:** _**The End**_ Once in for All. Unexpected right? **:P** You dear readers are very welcome! I finished it early and was like... whatever, let's post it now and to stop the intensive wait, no? (Obviously, those same reader will decide to say "**You are Awesome!**" and give honest feedback on the story **:D** )

**Thank you to all the wonderful people who left reviews, followed, or Favorited!** I hope this story will remain easy to find on the sight to those who desire to read fantasy stories!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**3rd Person Pov**

_**Two Months Later…**_

Erik reread her farewell letter a second time. His table was scattered with her belongings: her journals, her mask, and the final letter.

* * *

_Dear Phantom or Anyone who is brave enough to find this,_

_It has come to my attention that despite the horrendous incident that occurred, you know what I speak of, this famous French landmark, the Palais Garnier, is in desperate need of someone to oversee the managers of business. They need a fine critic that is blatant and bold enough to get results._

_By the time you find this, I will most likely be long gone from this dark, lonely lair. I know not of what will become of me, except that for now it is of no importance. Concealed within this envelope is a deed to a forty percent share of the Palais Garnier. It is yours as you see fit. I trust your judgement._

_And a landmark this great will survive the test of time._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_A.D_

* * *

He searched for the deed to the Palais Garnier, but there was no second sheet. Which left the envelope. He carefully unraveled the envelope to discover that it was the contract Anastasia made with the managers. Their signatures were authentic and it was written in ink on expensive, long lasting paper. Written on the bottom, proved that it was one of three official documents. Anastasia sure knew how to do business. However, she exchanged half a million francs for the deed just to give it away.

He was surprised. She wrote it long before they met. She meant to toss it away to him without knowing him. She willing donated her money to prevent the opera house from going bankrupt. She prevented hundreds of workers from going jobless. It was unexpected and he had nearly killed her the day they met so many months ago. He had misjudge the girl right from the start. She was never a beast, but an angel in disguise. An angel that was long out of his reach. Two months past already and she had yet to return. Not even to retrieve her belongings.

A tear trailed down his face. He was never going to see her again. He would forever treasure her belongings and memory. He was going to renovate the opera house now with the official documentation of ownership. He was going to make it the gem Paris, a national monument in honor of her. The lady he'd never see again.

* * *

**Anastasia's Pov**

I ordered the carriage to a halt and chose to walk the rest of the way. I had finally recovered, no longer struggling to stand. I entered the Palais Garnier. I found the quickest interior passageway and hid before I got spotted. Then I headed directly down to the liar.

I entered the dim lit lair. Apparently the Phantom preferred less lamps then I. The lair had a depression and gloomy aura. A somewhat frightening aura that I had not expected. My pace gradually slowed to a halt when I spotted Erik standing near the edge of the lake. He had his back turned towards me and so he had yet to spot me. I spotted my journals opened on the table, including the journals that I had purposely hid on the bookshelf. I wasn't expecting him to find it, especially since I had replace its bindings to a common, boring book. My irritation towards him gradually grew. He had completely invaded my privacy while I was out.

I had a great desire to push the man into the water for snooping into my private belongings. He must've read all my journals while I was gone. Anger fumed within me. I was angered when my little sister found and read my journals younger and then again when my father read them. I needed a securer way of hiding them. However, I also noticed that he had found my letter.

I carefully tiptoed towards the man. He had yet to spot me. I had to be perfectly silent or else he'd notice. Two years of silently patrolling the opera house gave me the skills to sneak closer to him

_**No one would listen**_

_**No one but her**_

_**Heard as the outcast hears…**_

I stopped in mid stride when I heard his faint, lonely song. Slowly, my anger waned when I realized how truly alone he must have felt for all his life. For some reason, I had never contemplated how my presence in his lair must have affected the man behind the mask. I was too busy dwelling in my own mild issues that I had completely forgotten to feel sympathy. I had ignored the man in attempts to achieve my goals. I had teased and ignored him.

**_Shamed into solitude_**

**_Shunned by the multitude_**

A teardrop slid down my face as I listened to his sad, touching song. I no longer desired vengeance upon him. I longed to reach out to him, but I was hesitant now. It was more nerve racking than pushing him away. I stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, except to stare blankly at the man in front of me.

"She saw my loneliness, shared in my emptiness…" he sang. I was surprised by the change in lyrics and tone. In my daze, he had turned around and was mere inches away from me now. "No one would listen, no one but her. Heard as the outcast hears…" He gently wiped away my tears. I stared into his mismatched eyes that were bright and mysterious. I closed the distance and embraced the lonely man in tight hug.

"I missed you," I whispered. I was going to break off the embrace, but he held me tight in his strong, gentle arms. He smelled of scented candles and wood.

"I love you," he whispered back. My arms went numb and I felt my heart beating faster. I wasn't expecting that despite what I knew. I hadn't planned it. I was speechless and he quickly broke of the embrace. "I'm sorry," he apologized afterwards, with fearful, sad eyes, "But please you must stay." I was stunned silent.

"I can't," I replied truthfully. He looked as if I had stabbed a dagger in. He looked as if he wanted to run away. He turned away from me.

"Take your things. Go!" he cried angrily, "Just go…" he muttered as I heard him breathing heavily. His shoulders rose and dropped down low. I was torn. Part of me wanted to run off, angry from being shouted at. But then another part of me knew that if I ran off, I might never see the man again. Did I love him?

I cautiously approached the sad, angry man, fearful of upsetting him more. I took a deep breath and took hold of his gloved hand.

"Come with me," I told him.

"What?" he asked with a startled look.

"Please come with me!" I asked with more determination.

"I can't," he said this time. My heart froze.

"What?" I asked this time with hurt eyes, "Why can't you come with me?" I asked more hurt than expected. I was still holding on to his hand tightly and he held back.

"This face…" he said, "Not even a mother could look upon.."

"You're more handsome than you know," I interrupted, "I was... shy the first time I met you, I wasn't expecting that." I drew my left hand up to his perfect face, "You took my breathe away when I first saw you sitting outside my room. But I was too shy to admit it." He held onto my hand in his and looked into my eyes with the most inquisitive, astonished countenance.

He smiled, brightening up his eyes. They sparkled bright, especially his golden mysterious eye. I smiled back still holding his hands. He let go and embraced me once more in a friendly manner. "Thank you," he said as he held me tight.

"So you'll come with me?" I inquired eagerly. He held me back and stared intensely into my eyes.

"Why?" he asked with a raised brow. He had a devilish smirk.

"I… I don't know how I feel about you…" I muttered quietly and his brow lowered, "But I know that need you. Your rejection tore at me that I might not be able to live without you," I teased.

"Oh," he responded and came closer, "And how does this make you feel?" he whispered in a low, seductive voice. My heart pounded. I wouldn't fall for it. He closed the distance a bit more, but he missed my lips and kissed my cheek. He held me closer with his strong arms that I knew I wouldn't be able to break away with toppling us into the lake.

"If I didn't have important document in my jacket, I would push you into the lake," I threatened.

"Important documents?" he asked as he released me.

"Of course, I have plans for my future expeditions," I responded.

"Future expeditions?" he asked. I drew my map out of jacket as he cleared the table. I rolled out the map onto the table and placed weighted on the ends.

"Tada!" I cried out. He stared at it intensely; inspecting every corner and an irritating smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"What?!" I asked with my brows low, daring him to say something.

"I spy dragons?" he mocked.

"It was a gift and perhaps there are dragons there!" I replied back with pouted lips.

"Says the five year old," he replied.

"Well you can leave then!" I responded, "I don't need your mockery."

"And then she throws a tantrum," he laughs out. His deep, melodic laughter ringing out.

"That's unfair!" I replied, hurt, "You know what you're not invited. Now I'm stuck with my father's handsome guards."

"Oh, is that a challenge," he smirked, "Would they be able to protect you?"

"From what?" I asked blankly, trying to think of the dangers in London that my father's guards wouldn't be able to combat.

"Me!" he stated with laughter as he snatched me in his arms and held me hostage, "You're not leaving without me!"

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that!" I laughed. He held me down with and intense gaze and I mimicked it. I tested his arms. They were immobile, holding me down. I decided to play my secret card. I hugged him back and kissed him passionately. I held on long enough till his arms went limp for a second. Immediately, I pushed him off, snatched my map and raced off into the dark.

**Read and Review!** Any Feedback despite the time is much appreciated! (Also, I will probably be alive for the next 300 years, so I'd most likely still see it!) **Also, if you check out my stories on hiatus, tell me which you prefer the most and I might just write them out.**


	33. Epilogue: Merry?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, however it's under public domain :D

**Author:** Merry Christmas, here's an Epilogue!

**Enjoy!**

"Ugh, let me out of here!" Anastasia cried out in the pitch black cell, "I cannot believe you would actually dare to kidnapped me! If my father finds out…" The Phantom ignored her threats as he ran off into his room.

Anastasia banged heavily on the door until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She had ran away from the Phantom. But somehow in the darkness he had thrown a rope around her. It was unexpected. She no longer had beastly vision (or so she thought). She wasn't expecting to be bound up and then carried back to the lair. She had expected him to release her once caught. But he took it too far. She was release and immediately locked up in the cold empty dark room. She waited forever. She was panting from hitting the door before she heard sound outside the door again. The footsteps halted.

"The door won't budge, girl," the Phantom teased.

"Oh, yes it will!" she shouted back, "I cannot believe you would lock me up!" She was still furiously hitting the door that she didn't expect it to open up and so she crashed into the man. "Oof.."

"Still crashing into people?" he teased yet again. She wasn't sure why he was still joking even after he dared to lock her up for so long. He knelt the ground with a bright over eager smile.

"Will you Merry me?" he asked.

"Oh no! Never! I will not be bound by the chains of matrimony! Not after what you just did!" she said with pouted lips.

"Who's talking marriage?" he asked seriously as if she said something wrong. She stared at him in bewilderment. Looking down she realized that he was offering her a golden wrist watch that had an intricate design with multiple smaller ticking clocks inside.

"Oh," she muttered in embarrassment as he helped her wear the watch, "I thought you said marry…"

"I said M-E-R-R-Y, it means be happy, little noble," he teased.

"Oh," she said with her jaws open and both eyebrows raised.

"Also, someone needs to catch up on their classics. I thought you were a bookworm!" he admonished her ignorance.

"I do read. I just don't read storybooks much!" she replied back indignantly.

"Oh and why not?" he asked again.

"They're much too thick for me!" she replied, "Read the classic The Count of Monte Cristo and you'll understand!"

"You read that?" he asked.

"Of course I did!" she stated.

"And you didn't get tired of the repetitive sentences?" he asked.

"Well… I didn't notice until later," she muttered under her breathe, "I cannot believe you locked me up in the dark!" she scolded right afterwards, hoping to change the subject in her favor.

"It was less than ten minutes!" he defended.

"But it was dark!" she pouted.

"You can see in the dark," he replied.

"No I can't," she replied quickly.

"Then I'm sorry, do you accept my apology," he asked.

"Hmm… maybe, you'll have to make it up…" she replied.

"That's cold!" he replied.

"I'm just teasing you. Of course I forgive your abrupt, unsocial, locking people up behavior!" she laughed. They bantered back and forth until the candles dimmed. And then they evaluated and assessed the plans of their upcoming adventure, touring the world.

* * *

**Author:** If you got this far, meaning you just read a 200 page double spaced document, I'm sure you must have enjoyed some part of this story. And so, **I've decided that I may be writing another darker Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction**, with Christine and the Original cast in it plus an extra OC. **The Assassin** and **The Lost Rose** stories will be merged and the story should be as short/as long as this one. I don't do extreme length stories.

As always, **Review the ending, how did you like it?** Perhaps a **short snippet new continuation**, but only shorts. I try to set up the chapters like short episodes with an arc to each of them.

**Any ideas/comments for the merging of the two stories**, etc. **Feel free to PM me**, I don't bite. I am as friendly as a hyper puppy :D


	34. Chapter 34: Big Bad Wolf

**Author: Happy New Years! Here's an extra story! **

**Big Bad Wolf**

For once the atmosphere under the opera house held a crisp, jolly aura. Excitement could be felt in the cool breeze flowing in and out of the Phantom's lair. Erik handed Anastasia a leather bag with straps to pack her few belonging. She opened up her wardrobe and packed her white shirts and black pants. She saved her masquerade dress for last. She wanted to keep the dress that held many memories pristine. Once she packed her clothes, she proceeded to pack her books in a separate compartment in the bag.

Underneath her journals, she spotted the newspaper with her family pictures upon the front cover. She picked up the paper and held onto it for a long time, just staring at the front cover in remembrance of her family. She felt nostalgia take hold of her. Tears started forming in her eyes.

"Is something the matter?" Erik asked politely when he spotted shine of tears.

"No," Anastasia mumbled as she flipped open the newspaper. Erik dropped his own bag and walked towards the tearful girl. He stood behind her and stared down upon her family pictures. The tears could no longer remain hidden as it streaked down the girl's face. She flipped to the main article. Erik took out his handkerchief and offered it to the girl. She ignored it as she stared down at the pictures.

"You're not fine," he finally stated as he gently took hold of her hand and placed the handkerchief in it, "Perhaps talking would help." Anastasia took in a breath and released it softly.

"What would you like to know?" she asked hesitantly.

"Tell me about this picture, is that you flinging the sword about?" he asked. Immediately, a smile lit up on the girl's face. She stared down at the picture he pointed to. In it, a six year old little girl was holding up a wooden sword all while chasing a couple other well dressed children and adults.

"Oh that one," she retorted with a smirk growing, "That was great day." She smiled tenderly and it reached her eyes giving it depth and emotion.

"Tell me the story," Erik responded. She proceeded to recount the tale of the little girl with a sword in hand.

"It was an old family gathering…"

* * *

_**Anastasia's narration...**_

It was an old family gathering. My family from all over Europe used to visit once every two years for it. Just so you know, my family is old on both sides and so it's full of many different characters. My mother's side is actually from England. Her distant relatives attended and let me tell you, they are some of the strangest people I've ever met. That's old family for you.

I was young back then, probably six or seven years old. I was… well… I wasn't the most obedient child but I'd love games. I still do. ("I've noticed," Erik commented.) Hush now, I'm telling a story. Where was I? Right, so I loved games. This game in particular was an reenactment of fairy tales. However, we get to spin up the tales. We would toss the names of all the fairy tale characters into a hat and then pick the parts. I lucked out and got the damsel role. (How horrible…" Erik noted sarcastically.) Shush… It was horrible. I had to pretend to be saved by an obnoxious, drooling cousin of mine. I was so furious that I stole his sword and then proceeded to chase after the wolf. There's the wolf. (She pointed to the picture of a tall handsome man.) That's my favorite uncle by the way. He's on my mother's side and so I barely ever get to see him. Back to the story, I wanted so desperately to team up with him, but instead he ran off and I started to chase after them with the wooden sword in hand.

It turns out that I wasn't a great runner back then… ("You still aren't," Erik teased and received a light punch to the shoulder.) That's besides the point! I tripped over a rock and took a tumble and my uncle tried to save me. I nearly jabbed him with the sword. Thank the heavens, he's a great fencer. The wolf ended up saving the damsel, changing up the story… I remember… (Anastasia's eyes lit up in bewilderment as if she just hit a revelation.)

* * *

**_The memory…_**

"Are you alright, Ana?" The tall man caught the little girl in his arms just as she was about to hit the floor. He just nearly avoided the girl's sword. It dangerously brushed past his neck as it hit the grass. The crowd surrounding them clapped and cheered in approval. The wolf had just saved the damsel.

"I wanna join you!" the little girl cried out as she wrapped her arms around the man's neck.

"Oh, you want to join the wolf's team, do ya?" he teased the girl, "Join up with the solitary hunter?" His voice turned into a growl as he continued to ruffle up the girl's wild hair.

"Hey! You should be honored!" she replied back.

"Says the damsel in distress!" he howled. The crowd joined in on the laughter.

"I'm not in distress!" She pouted and pushed him back, only to fall back on the grass.

"It seems to me that you are young lady," the man growled, keeping to his character. The girl's hand touched the wooden sword and an idea immediately sprang into her head. She brought the sword up to the wolf's neck.

"Ha! Now I have you as my captive!" she shouted out loud for the crowd to hear and they went wild with approval.

"I don't believe that's how it works, little lady!" the man teased as he grabbed the sword from her hands. "Wolves beat swords!"

"I shall save you my dear lady!" a little boy dressed in a princely manner shouted as he rushed up to the girl and took hold of her hand.

"What?! I don't need saving!" the little girl shouted back and the crowd couldn't help but let loose another laughter. The boy grabbed her too roughly and pulled too hard. "Ouch! Lighten up!"

"No, we need to get married before daybreak!" the young boy shouts back.

"What?! Save me!" she hollers out to her uncle the wolf and the boy drops her hand.

"You don't want to marry me?" the boy asks sadly.

"Nope!" she states plainly despite the fact that teardrops are forming in the little boy's eyes.

"Darling, that's not how the story works!" her mother interrupts.

"Yes, it is!" the girl shouts back. The crowd can't help but contain their laughter for the sake of the boy.

"I think you've hurt his feelings," her mother whispers to the girl.

"Oh," she mutters back with her eyes down, "I'm sorry…" she says.

"It's alright," the princely boy says with innocent brown eyes.

"I don't think you're fit for a damsel, pup," he father says with his blue eyes twinkling. She nods in approval. "What role do you want next time?"

"I wanna be the big bad wolf!" she shouts out. A nobleman in the middle of drinking sputters out his drink and laughs.

"You'll be my little wolf then!" her uncle states as they resume the game, giving another girl the role of the damsel.

* * *

_**Back in the Lair...**_

"What are you thinking about?" Erik asks the silent narrator.

"Oh, I just remembered something I said…" Anastasia mumbles out.

"What'd you say?" he asks.

"I want to be the big bad wolf," she mumbles.

"Oh, now you must tell me this story," he says with a curious glance, "It seems as if someone got their wish!"

* * *

**Author:** I started working on a **Phantom of the Opera Game** on choose your own story dot com. My pen name is always **PhantomWriter44**, so feel free to check it out! I'm also working on illustrations for this story on DeviantArt.

**Happy New Years Everyone, Hope you have a wonderful Year!**


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